Clash of Crowns (MT, Closed; Ajax)

[Ghant]

(…following the events of The Emperor and I and Eagles of Silver and Gold)

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A Thread By

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“Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.”
― William Shakespeare, Henry IV, Part II

The following thread may contain scenes of implied adult situations.
Reader discretion is advised.

[Ghant]

PART I

“The council is a place where everyone schemes against everyone else, and people talk incessantly about Power with a capital ‘Pow’.”
―James Alan Gardner, Ascending

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Inperiala Palace
Ghish, Ghant
(Co-written with Lacus Magni and Allamunnic States)

The Small Council Chamber was a quaint room, just the way the Emperor liked it. It was perfectly square, painted a dull grey and with a large round brown wooden table in the middle of it. The walls were lined with bookshelves or the wide fireplace, which had a burning fire within the depths of a few dry logs. When there was no one speaking, one could hear the fire crackling as the wood burned. The chamber was well lit by the glass windows letting in the morning light, in addition to some lamps in the corners of the room.

Lord Commander Denis Devlyn was the oldest among them. He was eighty-five years old, with a balding head with grey hair combed over, sagging blue-green eyes and dressed in Imperial Court dress, armed to boot. Pale skinned and freckled, he did possess a most unusual vertical scar under his right eye…earned in 1939 when he was five years old, for whimpering in the presence of the Mad Emperor of Ghant when House Devlyn was summoned to court to swear their loyalty when the Mad Emperor’s War began. Denis saw burned bodies impaled on spikes in the palace square and became frightened, and for that the Mad Emperor slashed the boy’s face with a dagger, telling him that only traitors weep for traitors. Upon cutting him, however, the Mad Emperor was convinced that Denis was just a soft, weak little boy, that needed to toughen up.

That he did, as Denis grew up to be a noteworthy knight and loyal servant of the Imperial House, serving Emperor Michael admirably and being raised to the Zinpalak by him, then to the rank of Lord Commander by Emperor Albert (his drinking companion), and continuing to serve Nathan in his advanced years. Unlike the Palace Guard that was only tenuously loyal to the Emperor (many of them were Cassandra’s pets), Denis Devlyn was one of the few that Nathan could trust implicitly. Since Emperor Albert died, Denis kept to himself in secluded areas near Nathan’s chambers, where he read, played cards and drank.

Prince Edward of Ghant had been the Imperial Treasurer since thirty years, appointed to that office by his older brother Emperor Albert of Ghant. The prince was now seventy-two years old, and had grown substantially in his accomplishments. He had grown wealthy from his many investments, was the Chairman of the Ghish Imperials of the Ghantish Hockey League and enjoyed the benefits of presiding over the imperial treasury. Even in his old age he cut an imposing figure, lean with pale blonde hair and fading light blue eyes.

His younger brother Prince Louis of Ghant had been Grand Admiral of the Imperial Fleet since 1991, also appointed by his older brother Emperor Albert upon the death of their uncle, Prince Alexander of Ghant. Louis was sixty-nine years old, and like Edward had a naturally stern expression, tall and thin with grey hair and a bushy grey moustache. While Edward dressed in an imperial court outfit, Louis dressed in a naval officer uniform.

While it was often said that Edward was more severe than Louis, the opposite was in fact true. Edward was amiable in person, while Louis was quiet and brooding. Both men were the most like their father, the erstwhile Emperor Michael of Ghant, though in different ways. The two of them got along well enough one on one, though both of them had many issues with the present state of affairs at the imperial court of Ghish, resting squarely upon the shoulders of their great-nephew Nathan and their great-niece Cassandra.

Grand Magister Gerold was a similarly old man, though at least ten years younger than Edward. He was the most recent appointment to the Small Council, having been sent by the Enclave in Onmutu to replace the recently deceased Grand Magister Otto. Gerold was a stocky man with grey hair and a matching trimmed beard. His robes were similarly colored, in fact all of his outfit was grey with the exception of the many bracelets on his left arm, each one corresponding to his areas of expertise. Nobody knew him especially well just yet, though up to this point he had a reputation for being quiet and soft-spoken.

Lord Laswell Indartsu was many things, chief among them Cassandra’s creature, and then Imperial Spymaster. He was a man in his mid-thirties, clean shaven but with shaggy brown hair and beady brown eyes. Laswell rarely spoke, preferring to listen, but when he did speak it was either to be glib or to share words of great importance. House Indartsu was an ancient house in southern Lurberdea, and like many noblemen of proud and ancient name, he was well educated and shrewd, but also enigmatic and cunning, no doubt why he was elevated to his present position. He dressed in dun-colored clothes that otherwise appeared quite ordinary.

The Imperial Justicar, Prince Leo of Ghant and Latium – the Emperor’s half-brother. He was among the newer faces at council meetings, despite technically serving as an adjunct since 2006, at the age of fifteen. However, Leo was not unfamiliar with council meetings. At the ascension of his cousin, Latin Emperor Constantine, in fall 2016, Leo was made Master of Offices. His tenure at the Latin court was short-lived, at a year long, only resigning January 2018 to avoid any scandal caused when he recognized an illegitimate son, Felix. Leo was promptly appointed to the Ghantish great office earlier this year. He was now a regular at council meetings, always dressed in a traditional court uniform for the occasion. His recognizable, long, dark brown curly hair was kempt and pushed back in his normal fashion.

Then there was the Imperial Manus and Lady Protector of Ghant, Princess Cassandra. The princess cast a long shadow over the Ghantish court, for few were as ambitious, as reaching, or as cunning as she. Like her cousin Leo, her hair was long, thick and brown, though hers was neither kempt nor curly. Instead it was long and cascading in waves around her round face, with a hint of red when the light was upon the strands of hair, and between them at the center of her face gazed large brown eyes beneath thick eyebrows. Cassandra was a beauty, of that there was no doubt, and age only made it more pronounced. Her curvy figure was clovered from neck to feet with a lavish golden court gown trimmed with white.

Elsewhere in the room, Princess Adenora of Douarnenez, or Lady Zuria as she was addressed at times, sat and observed. The wife of Raymond III of Zuria, Adenora was Emperor Nathan’s maternal grandmother. Though her face was wrinkled, and the beauty of her youth was gone, Adenora aged as gracefully as one could, with as quick a mind as ever, and hair still as auburn-red as it was in her youth.

Beside Adenora sat her granddaughter and the Emperor’s half-sister Alexia, a fellow adjunct. The Princess was very much a late bloomer, twenty-three years old and a slender beauty with smooth, fair skin peppered with dark freckles, long and thick black hair kept bound behind her head and with deep blue eyes. Her eyes had a haunting elegance that few men could gaze upon for longer than a few moments. Her brother liked to call her the Jewel of Ghish, and for good reason, as she was both his favorite sister and now the most eligible, though Alexia was seldom aware of her own beauty or shy charm. Even now, she wore a pretty dark blue dress that was rather modest, and in some ways failed to do her justice.

The other two adjuncts sat not too far away, and beside each other were quite stark in their contrast, though both were in their late twenties now. Lord Alaric Dain was the brother of the Latin Empress and the eldest son and heir of Lord Bolvar Dain in Dakmoor, and like the men of that kingdom, Alaric was tall and strapping with black hair and blue eyes. He had a talent for swordplay and ladykilling, both of which he had used to great affect. His greatest kill was Lady Christina Pinaria, the bright-eyed beauty who was a first cousin of the Crown Princess of Dakmoor. Alaric killed her so stunningly that he married her and had multiple children with her in short order.

Prince Olyvar of Thule was another matter entirely. A younger son of the old King Urtzi of Thule and some savage ohaide from an obscure Thular clan, Olyvar was powerfully built with scruffy brown hair and random patches of hair on his face, yellow eyes in a pale face and dressed in furs. He was in no particular hurry to marry or have a family, and was quite content to fight street ruffians, fuck lowborn whores and feast upon red meat all the way to an early grave. Yet in spite of his lack of refinement, Olyvar offered sage, though often biting council, which was why he was where he was.

At the head of the table sat the Emperor of Ghant, chief among them in his gilded chair. Nathan wore a black tunic that contrasted with his fair freckled skin. His hair was a short and neatly cut brownish-red color, and his eyes were a dull blue-grey. Nothing else stood out about him other than it looked like he’d rather be someplace else. On the table beside his right hand sat a crown fitted with various gemstones of different colors. A ruby, sapphire, opal, onyx, amethyst, emerald, red diamond, peridot, alexandrite, blue diamond, topaz and citrine. This imperial crown was one of the most valuable things in the Imperial treasury, and there it was sitting on the table, instead of upon his head.

It was the Emperor who led off the meeting. “I’d like to welcome Grand Magister Gerold to the Small Council. He will be replacing the late Grand Magister Otto, who had served the Imperial court long and well since 2007.”

Grand Magister Gerold began to speak, pedantically at that. “The office of Grand Maester was created in 1800 by Empress Paulina, who asked for an archmagister to advise her on governing the realm. The first Grand Magister was Yuwen, and he set the standard for all the Grand Magisters who followed. Sworn to serve the whole realm, the Grand Magister sits on the imperial small council and acts as one of the imperial advisors. As the Enclave's representative at the imperial court, the Grand Magister is elected by the Enclave, to serve for life or until recalled, and it is my intention to serve the imperial court long and well, as Otto did before me.”

“Thank you, Grand Magister,” the Emperor said politely. Other Emperors in the past may have had notes or prompts, but not Nathan, who instead just went through things off the top of his head in a most unorganized fashion. Such was his way. “We should talk about the Liothidian Claims Over the Boreios Sea.”

“Dogs will bark,” Prince Edward observed. “I don’t worry about barking dogs until they start trying to bite. That’s when we should really concern ourselves.”

“...I was hoping that the Liothidians would be so stupid,” pointed out Cassandra with a grin. “Up until they made that claim, they could have courted the interests of Uncle Albert, but now that they’re claiming the Boreios Sea up to Keuland’s island coastlines, they have provoked him and made an unnecessary enemy. What potential allies do they have now? They’re surrounded by nations that they’ve provoked.”

Louis was a little more skeptical. “On the contrary, this was a move meant to get Albert’s attention. Now that the claim has been made, the Keulanders will establish dialogue with the Liothidians about this ocean claim, and it is perhaps possible that they can still emerge with some sort of an...understanding.”

“Only if that understanding is the Keulanders accept these preposterous claims. Keuland is among the ‘Tyranny of the Womb,’ as only the Liothidians could so eloquently put it,” Adenora added. “They’ll accept nothing less now.”

“I agree with Prince Louis. So long as the Keulanders and Liothidians are in the same room, there’s still a chance they could reach some agreement,” Leo leaned forward in his seat. “But there’s no telling how long that sort of alliance would last. It’s no coincidence that these claims also extend to the far northern waters as well. They seek to alienate, and claim the northern seas if allowed. Ostrozava is the only ally in Belisaria they’re likely to hold, and they won’t be of help on the seas.”

Princess Alexia shook her head. “No, Grandmother, I think you’re underestimating King Albert and overestimating Liothidia. Liothidia cannot afford to surround itself on all sides with hostile enemies, and they know this. Albert will never accept the Liothidian claims, and he is willful enough to get the Liothidians to back down from that position...provided they work out something along the lines of a non-aggression pact, or perhaps something more formal if it suits them.”

“Perhaps,” conceded Adenora. “I hope that I am wrong, Granddaughter. If Liothidia is indeed a paper tiger and backs down, then the concern is far lesser. Like the Latins before them, sometimes they need a smack on the nose to back down or else they will keep pushing until they’ve devoured all in sight. Only time will tell, however.”

“That’s not a fair comparison or remotely accurate, Your Highness. The Liothidian objective is clear, and an obvious danger if left unchecked,” the Latin-raised Prince Leo quickly objected. “It can’t be compared to things that happened hundreds of years ago, in an entirely different world.”

“I do believe your bias is beginning to show, Prince Leo of Latium.” Adenora looked down Leo, who stared right back with a plain face. “It’s a wonder it took so long to surface.”

Nathan smacked the table. “That’s enough of that. Whatever the situation might have been generations ago, the reality is that today, Liothidia poses a threat to all of our nations. Might I remind both the Latins and the Gelonians that the only thing keeping the Liothidian fleet from running rampant in the Thalassan is NATA, and that requires both Ghant and Ottonia to be on the same page. If Ottonia ever goes over to Liothidia, we’re all in big trouble. So we must cooperate if we are to keep them contained.”

Leo looked as if he was ready to add something, but simply nodded his head in deference to his brother, while Adenora said, “Of course.” She added, “If Liothidia wasn’t enough, the Ottonians seem poised to toss off their own monarchies in due time.”

“Yes, about that,” the Emperor replied,” my brother-in-law was kind enough to join us today to elucidate upon what exactly is going on with Ottonia these days.” With that said, the Emperor waved over one of his guards and told him “please send in Crown Prince Vitus of Staalmark.” The guard nodded and went to the door of the Small Council Chamber in an effort to bring in the Allamunnic Prince.

When the guard returned, he was trailed by a well-built young man. Vitus of Staalmark was tall (although perhaps not notably so in a room full of imposing presences) and clearly made an effort to take care of himself physically. His dark hair was parted and styled in a simple, but attentively-maintained style, and there was just the slightest hint of stubble on his well-defined jaw, and in contrast to the court dress seen throughout the room, he had clothed himself in an immaculate three-piece navy-blue suit, with a pocket-watch to boot. As he entered the room, his footfalls were quiet, and he stopped at an unoccupied side of the table. He gave a bow, before speaking.

“Thank you for your invitation to address the Council today, Your Majesty,” he said, addressing Nathan directly. Addressing the others at the table, “and a good day to you all, Your Highnesses, your lordships.” He waited to be offered a seat. “I am told you wanted an, ah, insider’s perspective on the recent events in the Federation?”

“That would be helpful,” Nathan said to his brother-in-law as he gestured to an open chair. “Please, sit down and make yourself comfortable. We’re all eager to hear what you have to say.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Vitus said with an appreciative nod, taking an open seat. “As I’m sure you all are aware, there is an active proposal being prepared to abolish the state monarchies in the Federation,” he began. “The intent is that my family, as well as the Magnussunns of Tyrrslynd, the Riktuns of Innia, the Heligsburgs of Onneria, and the Claemurs of Skraelingia will vacate the thrones, which will be abolished, with the state executive duties being handed off to elected officials.”

Leaning back, after gathering his thoughts, he continued. “The full bill is expected to get sent to the Assembly later this year. At present, all of our families are cooperating fully with the Federal government. It was made quite clear to us that this would be happening with or without our cooperation, so the prudent thing for us was to make sure the terms were as favorable as possible. The expected effective date of the abolishment will be New Year’s Day of 2020, although that may be subject to change depending on how long the legislation takes to get crafted. Any questions?”

Cassandra was the first to respond, slamming her fists on the table as she shot up out of her chair. “This is outrageous! These Ottonians Feds are scum, I’ve warned you for years. They have nothing but contempt for our kind! We should respond to threats of this sort with some of our own…”

“...And drive them further towards the left and into the arms of Liothidia, niece?” Louis said with a sigh. “We cannot afford to lose Ottonia to Liothidia...that would prove disastrous.”

“Unfortunately the Feds have us by the balls,” Prince Edward added to his brother’s assessment. “They know how much we need them in our corner, so they’ll do as much as they can get away with knowing we won’t respond too harshly.”

The old Lord Commander Devlyn stirred, explaining that “I still remember the Mad Emperor’s War...barely. The war was grievous on both sides, and it took a generation for relations to normalize. They’re still not perfect, but it’s been good enough. All it would take is one bad move to convince the Ottonians that we are the enemy.”

“Not that I love the end result,” Vitus said in response to Cassandra’s outburst, “But it’s hard to blame them given the literal armed revolt my family and the House of Kristhulm led against them. I certainly wouldn’t trust someone who had actively attempted to kill me in the past. At least not entirely.” Turning to Prince Edward, he tried to clarify the situation.

“As for Liothidia… yes, and no. There’s a recognition that Federation’s issues with Liothidia are not particularly ideological; the Liothidians are, as I’ve heard now former-Premier U’Daanyl say, just as imperialist as anyone else. I don’t think this move is really meant as any attempt to get closer with the Liothidians. Nor is it, I think, even a matter of doing what they can get away with in the context of NATA. The logic, as I’m given to understand it, seems to be about ensuring internal stability. It’s an unnecessary step, in my opinion, but that does seem to be the motive.”

Vitus coughed. “Actually, I suspect I personally am part of the problem. Conflicts of interest seem to be a significant concern, and Arietta and I’s marriage certainly seems to have aroused some concerns. Which, given where I’m presently sitting, don’t seem entirely misplaced,” he said with a wry laugh. “Most people don’t think of Ghant, or this family as an enemy, but the closeness does not go unnoticed, and there are a lot of people with family that were buried between 1935 and 1939, if you understand me.”

“The royal houses of Allamunnika lack the means to fight back against this. The concept of abolishing the monarchies is broadly popular. I’d know; I’ve looked at the poll data. U’Daanyl was not lying about it happening one way or another. He didn’t need to; there’s enough public support that a bill could well pass the Assembly without our support. Not a certainty, but definitely possible.”

“And if the royal houses had the means?” Adenora spoke up next. “The whims of common folk are fleeting, often times changing as suddenly as the direction of the wind. I will not have my granddaughter's crown stolen from her by the latest craze of the day. Tell me, Vitus, if given the means to swing public support, could you?” A number of nods were given around the room at that.

“...There is wisdom in my grandmother’s words,” Nathan agreed. “Unless you’re telling us that that inclinations of the people are insurmountable.”

“Possibly? I’m honestly not sure it’d be doing more than delaying the inevitable. That it will happen, one way or another, within my lifetime, I have little doubt. And what I am reasonably sure of is that the longer we drag our feet on it, the worse the terms will become. Federal troops did not kill Mikel XII of Onneria. It was the Onnerians themselves.” He pointedly did not mention that federal troops had been responsible for the deaths of most of Mikel XII’s extended family; it was neither here nor there.

“Besides, it’s quite unnecessary. I think it’s to our benefit to allow this. Obviously, on the most favorable possible terms, but still to go along with it. We’re constitutionally-hamstrung on how we can fight it, anyway. And if we try to circumvent the rules that have been in place for nearly a century, well, then I can assure you we will lose many of the few supporters we have in that fight.”

“Which actually, brings me to my point: it’s better for us for another reason. We’re trapped, as it is. I realize the idea of losing a throne is anathema to most here in Ghant, but Ottonia does not really function the same way. While we hold the thrones, our entire families are barred from politics, from endorsing politicians or parties, and in many cases, even policies. We cannot spend our money how we choose in that regard, nor are we permitted to hold any of the public offices which wield most of the actual power in our system. The monarchs are not much besides figure-heads and glorified signature machines. Even a monarch’s veto is subject to override. We’re hamstrung.

“Which means” he said, tone picking up, “that Premier U’Daanyl may be accidentally doing us a favor. Sure, the certainty of the throne is gone, but with the abolishment of the state monarchies, we become private citizens, no longer bound by arcane rules that target us specifically. And, when we secure that abolishment on favorable terms, we will be extremely rich private citizens. And nobody is more powerful in a democracy than a wealthy, organized family.”

He shrugged. “I’m confident I’m up to the task. We will have to earn our place more now, but we will now have the opportunity to be more. Why settle for being a glorified governor when the levers of national power are suddenly open?” He shrugged. “As for Arietta… it may be kinder to her not to let her near a crown that we are all but certain to lose anyway. Why allow for a taste of something which cannot be kept? It’ll only make its absence more bitter.”

“So you have these means already, yet do not wish to do what you can to save your birthright? Even something as simple as a public campaign or other means of influence” Adenora added quickly once Vitus was finished, her tone showing she was less than pleased by his speech. “Dare I say, you are incredibly naive if you think their campaign against the royal houses will end at the abolition of the monarchies. They will never trust the royal families, even after they are no longer ‘royal’ families.”

“I don’t have them already,” he said, trying to keep his tone neutral despite Adenora’s misunderstanding of the situation. “The Federals watch us like hawks. It is, theoretically possible to procure those means, at great risk of worsening our position. Trying to play a rigged game and expecting to win seems the height of naivete, especially if you have the means to alter the rules of the game you’re playing. Will the federals stop there? Perhaps not, but they have to let us into the actual process they would use to push the changes any further. A glorified governor, locked into their position and hemmed in on all sides by rules and regulations, can do little to stop it.” He paused, choosing his next words to make his ambitions clear.

“But… a Premier, perhaps…? Or even someone positioned to bankroll a political opposition without extraneous financial regulations placed on them…? Fighting and clawing for a diminished birthright when something much greater sits within reach requires such a dreadful lack of imagination, don’t you think?”

He waved it off. “In any case, it’s not as if I’m not preparing contingencies. There’s still family to look after. But none of those are viable if the Assembly loses patience with us and passes a harsher measure that seizes most of our assets. Ultimately, taking this deal puts us in the best position moving forward.”

Prince Edward agreed with Vitus. “You know how these things usually end, your Highness. All you need to do is recall your history lessons, Liothidia in particular. As long as the royals are there, the threat of restoration is present. The only way to guarantee against that is to kill them all, which is exactly what they tried to do in Liothidia and Iotopha.”

“...There is another way.” The soft spoken Lord Laswell finally entered the conversation, his tone quiet and gentle, as though he were speaking to a baby. “The Frozen Sea is full of possibilities...plenty of islands that, while nominally under Ghantish control, your house has some feudal privileges upon. One comes to mind in particular, that possesses oil, and fortunately for you, is beyond the reach of Ottonian Federal Authority.”

Laswell leaned forward in his chair and shifted his weight from one side of his body to the other. “A carefully crafted public relations campaign can easily sway things in your favor if executed properly, and the resources of your territorial possessions could easily fund these efforts. So long as you are out of reach, the royal houses of Ottonia can prevail by inflicting death by a thousand cuts upon this...abolition initiatives popularity. Provided you have the gumption for it, I’m sure your brother-in-law and his partisans would be more than happy to support you.”

Vitus sighed. “Everything I’ve seen, all the research I’ve reviewed as far as public opinion suggests we’d need to put the better part of Ghant’s GDP into a PR campaign to stop the process entirely. Bluntly, I doubt we can put enough resources into stopping it to be really viable. No, what I’m thinking is something else entirely; I’ve been discussing, with the few legislative allies we have, the drafting of secession proposals in Staalmark, Onneria, Tyrrslynd, and Draakurr.

“I have absolutely no reason to think any of the proposals, even if they reach an actual referendum, will be successful in Staalmark, Onneria, or Tyrrslynd. The Federation will clamp down if they have to to maintain their mainland territorial integrity. Plus, the one I’d ordinarily say is the most viable, Onneria, has enough factors going against it to render the populace leary of independence. No, those would be a smokescreen. The real effort, the greatest concentration of our efforts and resources should fall on Draakurr, which would be much easier to carve off of the Federation and turn into a haven. It would also be much easier for NATA to guarantee Draakurr’s independence; there’s less of a compelling security interest for the Federation in ensuring Draakurr remains than the rest of Allamunnika. Moreover, its population is already more Christian and conservative than their equivalents on much of the mainland, so it’s already more conducive to our message.”

Nathan scratched his chin as he considered this. “I can see what would be in it for the Ufdraakurrs, but what would be in it for you, or the Izaaksunns, or really any of the other houses? How would they benefit from Draakurr going its own way?”

“A sensible question,” added Prince Edward before glancing at his younger brother Louis. “Our younger brother Prince James might be of some use in that department, given his marriage to Princess Franceska of Tyrrslynd.”

“Because, if it comes to that, we’ll found a new state out of Draakurr. One for all the royal houses of Ottonia. Sproek, Heligsburg, Magnus… even Claemur and Riktun, if they care to join us, not that I expect they will.” After thinking for a moment on how best to explain, he continued. “Draakurr is traditionally a Tyrrslynder holding, that is true, but it also less linked to Ottonian territorial integrity. The Federation can afford to lose it in a way that it cannot afford to allow a secession of any portion of Onneria or Staalmark. And, for all their illustrious pedigree, the House of Magnus is probably the single weakest and poorest of the major Allamunnic sovereign houses, dating back to Unification. Bluntly, if it’s going to happen, it will happen because the Heligsburgs and Sproeks put the resources into making it happen. So we will form a triumvirate, or whatever configuration proves necessary. We can figure out the specifics of a government there once it comes to that. It would be a refuge for all of our ilk. The resources we can bring to bear there, along with international pressure, should shield it from a counter-invasion by Federal authorities.”

Alexia shifted in her chair before asking, “and who would presume to rule this...state? Surely you say that the specifics of a government would be worked out later, but at the end of the day, someone will be the sovereign. Who might that be?”

Vitus shrugged. “Based on which royal families will be involved, thus far? What I’m tentatively working toward is an executive council, consisting of the heads of the royal families. A triumvirate, provided it is only the Houses of Magnus, Heligsburg, and Sproek involved. I have thus far received no interest in my communications from the members of the House of Riktun, and there is one branch of the House of Claemur willing to join. Of course, to garner international support, I was thinking we would have a legislature composed of those… sufficiently invested in the new state’s survival.

“Those aristocrats in the same boat as us, as it were, and perhaps a few elevated commoners of means or skills, forming a parliament. If there were four ruling families, we might let that parliament appoint one member to the executive council, so as to prevent deadlocks.” He sighed. “Again, with as much in the air as there is now, nailing down specifics is difficult. All I can offer is the possibilities I’ve been able to prepare for thus far. I’m good, at least,” he paused for a dry chuckle, “I like to think I am, but I’m only human. I can’t foresee everything.”

“...If you believe that this can work,” the Emperor began to say reluctantly, “then you have my support, in whatever fashion you see necessary. When you married my sister, I promised to do just that, and I’m the man who makes good on such commitments where family is concerned. Is there anything else you wish to say to the council, Prince Vitus?”

“I believe it can work as well as any of our options short of simply fleeing into exile,” Vitus said. “Honestly, we don’t have loads of good options. But I think this is one of our better ones; it’s a battle we can win, where I don’t think an outright attempt to stop the abolishment is.” He sighed. “That said, I’d also like to have preparations for flight for our family members to friendly nations, should it come to that. I don’t think the federal government will move against us beyond that simple abolishment, at least not to the immediate future, but having a plan just in case is prudent.” He shrugged.

“Beyond that… while it is possible to drive the Ottonian government into the arms of Liothidia, I think it’s important to keep in mind that it’s probably not as easy as you fear. Knowing that, curbing any potentially more-brutal impulses should be more than feasible.”

The Emperor of Ghant inclined his head. “That is good, and rest assured, your kinfolk are always welcome in Ghant. We are no strangers to providing safe refuge for the persecuted highborn.” Having said that, the Emperor poured himself a glass of water from the glass pitcher, drank it deeply and then added, “We thank you for your time, Your Highness, and we shall consider carefully what you’ve said to us today.”

With a last bow and thanks, Vitus was shown out of the room, just as Grand Magister Gerold spoke up in a quivering voice. “One last thing, your Majesty, if I may,” he said to the Emperor, who nodded. “Prince Vitus, your Highness...there is something you might not be aware of...perhaps...”

Vitus paused and turned back. “Yes, Grand Magister?”

“...Do you know who the claimant to the title Magnuserrege is?” the Grand Magister asked as he began turning pages in his tome. Others around the room began thinking on this, though it was Nathan who spoke first in response.

“Yeah, it’s Lionel Lianu,” the Emperor stated, confident in his answer. “In descent from Deunoro III of Dakmoor, in descent from Sara of Low Ghant, in descent from Orta Magnussunn.” Once Nathan explained it, several members of the council began to nod in agreement.

The Grand Magister tapped his chin, and then wagged his finger. “Indeed, Imperial records indicate as much, that Deunoro’s daughter Marla was the older twin, and Marek the younger. Yet what if I told you that this was a later revision of the birth record, and that in fact, Marek was the older twin, and Marla the younger?”

Prince Edward seemed confused. “...Who would alter that record, and why?”

“The alteration occurred during the reign of Marek II’s son King Deboru I, who as you know had an older sister, Marina of Dakmoor, who married the Duke of Adrianople. Deboru likely did not want to allow a Claudii claim to the Magnuserrege, and so he ordered that the birth records be changed to indicate that his aunt Marla, who had married Lord Devan Lianu, to claim the title and pass it on to her descendants. Which at the time may have seemed safer than allowing the Claudii to have such a claim.”

“Yet the Claudii wouldn’t have held the title for long anyway,” Alexia began to explain. “Since Marina’s eldest child was Paulina Claudia, Empress of Ghant.”

Gerold inclined his head. “That’s correct, your Highness, and her eldest child was Natalia, Princess Imperial, who married King Walder VIII of Staalmark.” Once Gerold said that, all eyes shifted once again to Vitus, before Gerold added, “which makes your father the Magnuserrege, your Highness. The principal heir of Otto and all the lands to which fealty is owed.”

Vitus nodded, not entirely sure what to make of this new information. While it could be useful knowledge to wield in royal politics, the problem was...

"That is fascinating," he said, levelly, "but as far as I know, the line of Magnus was considered irrelevant to Ottonian affairs as soon as Erik Magnussunn sailed from the mainland, never to return. I'm not sure how useful this information will prove, but it will be good to have, all the same."

“It’s relevant to these scheme of yours involving Draakurr, I suspect,” replied Prince Edward. “If the Ottonian royals congregate there, then your father can claim primacy. The Kingdom of Ottonia reborn in Draakurr, if you will.”

Vitus nodded. “It’s not that I don’t understand that point, it’s that it hinges on the other Ottonian monarchs caring, of which there’s no guarantee. So, potentially useful, good information to have, and I thank you for furnishing me with it, but I don’t have the liberty of assuming it will be enough to achieve that end.”

“That’s alot to think about, and certainly not something that can be done in mere minutes,” Prince Louis nodded in agreement with Vitus. “Think about it, and let’s see what happens with this abolition business.”

The Emperor shrugged and said that “I agree with Uncle Louis, that’s about the best we can do right now. Thank you for your time, Prince Vitus.” With that, Vitus observed the proper courtesies and exited the room.

[Lacus Magni]

The Small Council, Part II
(Co-written with Ghant)

“Well, all that was certainly interesting,” the Emperor said with a dry tone. “Very interesting stuff for sure. Unfortunately now it’s time to get back to the slog, and I think you all know what this is about.” Just as the room let out a collective groan, Nathan produced a thick packet of paper from below the table, the lifting of which caused him to grunt.

“We have some additional suits here for my brother Prince Leo to consider, and some of these are rather compelling.” With that said, Nathan dropped the packet on the table with a loud thud, and licked his thumb before sifting through the papers. “The Royal Houses of Gaemar, Izotza, Jehenna, Gauekoizarra, Odolargia and Thule have all offered Princesses of their respective kingdoms in suit. The noble houses of Oholesia, Zazpilurra, Natxia, Langael and Gahen have also submitted likewise suits, as have the Voors, the Mutus, the Galadras, the Tarlas and the Devlyns.”

“Cheers to House Devlyn,” the old Lord Commander laughed, in recognition of his own house. “About time we get one of our own back in a high place.” This caused Nathan to snigger, because it was known that House Devlyn had never been in a high place to begin with.

Lord Laswell was quick to crack his knuckles and cough. “Gaemar and Oholesia are formalities, as the Prince’s own sisters are in both places.” There was no affection in his tone whatsoever, as Laswell’s own house was subject to Lorazaina, where Nathan and Leo’s sister Theodora was now comfortably perched.

“Thule, Urda and Odolargia are irrelevant,” added Prince Edward. “Pagan rabble of dubious pedigrees and an aversion towards Latin sensibilities.”

Cassandra groaned and rubbed her forehead. “How many times do we have to go over this? The strongest suit is the one that strengthens the Imperial House the most. Quite clearly that’s Langael, and Lady Willow. She’s half-Gentry, and Uncle Edward’s own granddaughter, and she will better keep the Galans in the fold.”

Prince Edward however coughed at this suggestion. “I don’t see how my granddaughter gives the Imperial House anything that the Imperial House doesn’t already possess.” It was somewhat known that Edward regarded Leo with some distaste at the manner of his birth, though personally respected his great-nephew’s administrative acumen.

His brother Prince Louis had a stronger admiration for Leo, and let it be shown quite often in these Small Council meetings. “The best choice quite clearly is Lady Lyanna Lianu. She’s a lady-in-waiting of the Empress, she’s the daughter of Rhea Tarpeia and she comes from a powerful house that has yet to be reconciled to Ghish. A lovely girl, pretty and smart, I say accept the suit and be done with this nonsense once and for all.”

“If I may, your Highnesses,” Grand Magister Gerold chimed in. “Rhea Tarpeia and the Prince’s mother Isabella, while cousins, are not known to get along, and as such, bringing Lady Rhea so close to Imperial Favor may alienate the Prince’s sisters, who are in positions of power in two of the provinces.”

“Miranda Voor is an interesting candidate,” pointed out Princess Alexia softly. “She’s of an appropriate age, was spurned by King Gadiel of Gaemar in favor of Diana and has similar interests to the Prince.”

“...Not to mention that I’ve been keen on rewarding the Voors for the many years of dedicated service to the throne,” added the Emperor, who throughout this debate, as he had during all the previous ones, leaned back into his chair and rasped the table with his knuckles.

Alaric Dain laughed at this suggestion. “Miranda Voor, really your Majesty? Let me tell ya what Miranda Voor is all about. It's about some cooze who's a regular fuck machine. I mean all the time, morning, day, night, afternoon, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick.”

“...Speaking from personal experience, Lord Dain?” Laswell asked slyly, causing Alaric to shrink into his chair.

Lord Commander Devlyn asked “how many dicks is that?”

“A lot,” replied Nathan. “Nevermind all that. I still very much prefer Amerei of Izotza. She’s exceedingly intelligent, she’s pretty, and she’s the Queen’s sister. I want Izotza bound to the throne, and that’s the easiest way of going about that.”

“Izotza will never be bound to you as much as it will be to Albert,” pointed out Alaric Dain, causing Cassandra to glare at him menacingly.

Cassandra naturally wasn’t going to let this point go unaddressed, especially after personally reviewing the stack of suits. “I find it interesting that there are no suits from Dakmoor. I wonder why that is?”

“They already have Sophia,” answered Grand Magister Gerold. “What more use could they have with Ghish?”

“To keep another house from gaining it,” Prince Edward answered thoughtfully. “Consolidating it to keep potential rivals out.”

“...Perhaps for that reason, Prince Leo should marry someone already within our control,” Lord Laswell suggested. “Such as one of the Mutu ladies.”

Nathan snorted at that suggestion. “You’d have my brother marry someone that by all accounts we already have bound to us? After all these Small Council sessions invested in my brother’s prospects, that’s the best you could come up with? Complete and utter nonsense.”

“...Leo is the one wasting everyone’s time, cousin,” the Princess glared at the Prince. “He knows what the best options are and yet he flounders with indecision. The lot of you certainly aren’t helping him by bombarding him with all these stupid alternatives.” The use of the word stupid prompted an uproar from the various members of the Small Council, and soon the whole room was set to bickering nonsensically, as it had several times before.

As he often did during these discussions, Leo leaned back in his seat, though never comfortably. His face was calm, still and gave little indication where his thoughts on the subject were unless prodded to speak. After Cassandra finally singled him out, Leo slowly leaned forward and took in a deep breath while the others spoke. “I…I’ve made a decision,” Leo said in a raised voice. “If you will allow me, brother.”

The room fell silent as everyone present turned their heads to stare at Prince Leo. Even the Emperor of Ghant stared intently as he leaned forward in his chair. “You’ve finally made a decision, have you? Well then, let’s hear it.” The room was so quiet that the drop of a pin would sound like a crashing chandelier.

Though all eyes focused on him, Leo only looked to his brother. “With your consent, I would seek permission to wed Princess Elissa of Dakmoor.”

Indeed, the room was still quiet, as people gave each other looks of bewilderment. Even Nathan just sat there in silence, staring at Leo with a cocked head. “Okay, I get it. You’ve had to sit through these and listen to everyone make jokes at your expense, so now here’s your chance to get everyone back. Bravo, brother, bravo.”

Leo shook his head. “This isn’t a joke, Nathan, I’m serious. I’ve reflected on it, I’ve put a great deal of thought into this decision.”

The Emperor of Ghant continued to stare at his brother with a blank expression and a cocked head, though with each passing second he turned a little more red. Whispering and grimacing broke out around the room, though it was Cassandra that broke the awkward silence. “Princess Elissa? The Empress’s cousin, a Dakmaran, and a member of Malibar’s court. I don’t know which is more redundant…”

Alaric Dain interrupted Cassandra, perhaps brazenly. “...I don’t see anything wrong with that last one…”

The Ghantish Princess smacked the table so hard that her glass of wine went flying, crashing down to the floor and breaking, spilling the contents. “You shut your fucking mouth, Dain.” Then she turned to everyone else and roared “now we know why there were no suits from Dakmoor. Clearly our cousin Leo has been conspiring with Malibar Dakmaran to undermine the Imperial Family, the Small Council and the Emperor. Do you need any more evidence of the treachery of Dakmoor?”

“I am a member of the Imperial Family, the Small Council and the Emperor is my brother, I would never undermine any of them,” Leo voraciously shot back. “If you believe what you say is true, you know me as little as, I presume, you care about me as your kin. Nor do I need to defend myself for something I haven’t done, for a conspiracy that doesn’t exist – especially to you.”

Cassandra shifted her icy gaze from Leo to Nathan, though said nothing. Nathan shifted uncomfortably in his chair, and gulped as Cassandra stared at him. “Justify this to me, then. Another Princess of Dakmoor? For fucksake Leo, why?”

Nodding, Leo began, “After you named me Justiciar…” He shrugged his shoulders, “I enjoy spending time with her. She’s…relaxing, easy to get along with. It just kind of happened, I don’t know that I can explain it.”

“...How does this benefit me?” Nathan asked, pointedly though calm. “Give me something...give me anything.”

Leo nodded once more. “Her father has many friends throughout the north. I know that isn’t the same as delivering you a kingdom, but as Lord Alaric mentioned, Izotza will be contested with Albert no matter what we do,” he looked across the table for the first time, but brought his focus back to Nathan. “It doesn’t take anything away from you and should give you another anchor in Dakmoor.”

Louis interrupted with a snap. “For the sake of argument, I’d ask why he needs to let you wed and procreate with another Dakmaran when he is already married to one? You are of far more use to him elsewhere, such as the Voor girl or a Lianu. The two cannot go ignored for much longer. Princess Elissa, however sweet you may find her, does not help there. Nephew, I advise you to no longer entertain this poorly thought out jape.”

“Prince Edward mentioned that Dakmoor would have sought to find a suitor for me to prevent their rivals from growing. Couldn’t the same be said of Elissa and the many connections she holds? Not only in Dakmoor, but any neighboring kingdom, or in Sydalon and beyond.”

“Everyone in this room knows that this is what Malibar wanted,” Cassandra snorted in anger. “And yet he prevails again, imagine that.”

“With all due respect, your Highness,” spoke Laswell softly. “Among the Ghantish nobility, there are fears of Dakmaran hegemony, and the belief that Malibar is overreaching to tighten his grip on the throne. That is how this match will be seen, as yet another Prince of Ghant and a Princess of Dakmoor, to further those ends. The lords will naturally begin to grow even more envious and resentful of Malibar’s power and reach not just within Ghant, but across Belisaria and Scipia.”

“I know it isn’t what you had in mind, but there are benefits to the Crown here,” nodded Leo to his brother once more.

Cassandra scoffed at that and shot back, “the only benefits that I see are for you and your pleasures…”

“If you have something you want to say, just come out and say it,” Leo glared at Cassandra as he leaned forward.

Before Cassandra could respond, the Emperor of Ghant smacked the surface of the table. “Enough, all of you. I’ve heard enough of this shit.” Nathan looked at Leo with a stern visage and pointed at him. “I’ve never asked you for anything, Leo, and I’ve never told you no. I feel too much loyalty to you and our sisters. That isn’t about to change now, but that doesn’t mean that I’m just going to let you run roughshod over me. If you want to marry Princess Elissa, I will support you in this. It’s yet another victory for Malibar, but at this point, one must expect that,” he said with a piercing gaze at Cassandra.

“So, if you want my assent for this, you shall travel to Dakar and present yourself to King Malibar. Ascertain his position, acquire the leave of Prince Baldakar, and represent me as my brother. Do this, and I shall affix my personal seal to this marriage and provide the necessary accommodations,” the Emperor explained with a fatigued resignation. “I’m also assuming that you’ve already finessed things with Constantine, otherwise you wouldn’t have presented this development here.”

“I will travel to Dakar and speak to the King and Prince Baldakar. And yes, I have Constantine’s assurances,” sighed Leo in relief. “Thank you.”

After Leo spoke, Nathan rose from his chair and sighed. “I think that’s enough of this shit for one day, everyone. If you'll excuse me, I shall retire to my chambers and see to these suits. Oh and one more thing…” the Emperor looked over everyone in the room. “I intend on traveling to Castellum with some lords and ladies to pay my respects to Emperor Constantine and Empress Alazne. While I’m gone, Cassandra will keep things in order.”

“Naturally, cousin,” Cassandra smiled, before scowling at Leo.

“Everyone is dismissed.” Nathan waved his hands and turned to leave the room, prompting everyone else to stand up and stretch as they waited for the Emperor to leave. After he departed, the rest began to trickle out after him, until there was no one left remaining in the room.

[Ghant]

“Day in Dakar”
Dakauregia
Dakar, Dakmoor, Ghant
(Co-written with Lacus Magni)

The city of Dakar was located on a sheer cliff over the Sea of Dakmoor. The city took on a unified and harmonious architectural style of sandstone-like block buildings with purple shingles on the roofs, the synchronicity of which was without equal in the entirety of Ghant. The Palace Plaza was a wide, open avenue which stretched from the grand entrance of Dakauregia, the Royal Palace of the Dakmarans, and ran down to the massive Palace Courtyard further on in the city. A long, quiet avenue that served as the main walking plaza at the center of Dakar, the Palace Plaza was open to foot traffic only. Lined on either side by small shops, museums, monuments, and office buildings, the Plaza was trisected at two points by the Arch of Roses, and another lesser arch along the length of the avenue.

The main entrance to the palace complex was located at the terminus of Palace Plaza, a broad promenade which was crowned at the opposite end by the Palace Courtyard. The Arch of Roses stood halfway between the fountain-filled courtyard and the steps of the palace, which were lined with towering statues of famed leaders who helped shape the history of Dakmoor.

Within Dakar, greenery abounded, and the keep was surrounded by gardens, arbors, pools, fountains, courtyards, and man-made waterfalls. Ivy covered the older buildings, and climbing roses snaked up the sides of statuary, walls, and towers. Flowers bloomed everywhere, of shades of white, red, blue and purple. The keep was a palace like few others, filled with statues, colonnades, and fountains, with tall towers as slender and graceful as maidens. From them, a man can see for leagues in all directions, across orchards and meadows and fields of flowers, and the raging sea to the west. No seat in all of Ghant has been more celebrated in song than Dakauregia, and small wonder, for the Dakmarans have made their court a place of culture and music and high art.

The seat of House Dakmaran of Dakar, Dakauregia was the seat of royal power in Dakmoor. It was built in the early 16th century by King Marcel I of Dakmoor, in dedication to his Queen, Princess Sara of Low Ghant. The Palace was a magnificent edifice located on the edge of the cliffs of Dakar, overlooking the Sea of Dakmoor. The river Moro flowed into the ocean there via a series of waterfalls, which surrounded the Palace. It continued to serve as the residence of the Dakmooran royal family into the present day, and the nerve center of the nobility of Dakmoor. During the reign of King Martin I, Marcel I’s son and successor, there began a tradition that each consecutive ruler would follow- adding a new building to the massive structure. Martin’s addition of a massive tower containing the throne room and a small chapel would be a place for future monarchs of Dakmoor to pay homage to the past leaders of Dakmoor. In the 17th century, King Marek I constructed a massive library during his reign, which became a center of learning in Dakmoor.

Dakauregia was a massive complex of sandstone-like blocks formed into towers and rotundas with cupolas covered in purple tile. The largest structure in the city, it was the home of Dakmoor’s government and the destination of foreign diplomats and ambassadors. A central drum-shaped structure took up the majority of the complex, with a taller, narrower tower being the tallest point. Erected on a cliff face, the palace had several watchtowers on the rocky face, placed to detect a rear attack from the sea below. The palace was surrounded by a vast garden complex. Additions to the palace during each new administration was traditional and a way for the new monarch to curry favor with their constituents.

Prince Leo of Ghant approached the steps of Dakauregia, walking through the plaza and all of its architectural might, artwork, and history. He was dressed formally, in a typical black court uniform accented with gold epaulettes on each shoulder and gold accents throughout. The breast of his jacket was adorned in various honors and decorations from both Ghant and Latium, including the Order of the Sash from the former and the Ancient Equestrian Order from the latter.

At the expectation of heightened formality, Leo shaved his typically scruff beard to sport a now clean face, however his hair was at its usual length and style – long and pushed back in a proper fashion. Reaching the steps, Leo took a deep breath and for a moment, gazing up at the towering structure as he exhaled. He held his hand on the hilt of his sheathed sword hanging at this hip briefly, removing his hand while entering the formidable palace.

Interestingly enough, there were no retainers present at the gargantuan doors of the front entrance of the palace to show him in, merely four guards, two on each side, standing tall and dignified with scowls on their faces as the Prince of Ghant made his ascent up the steps, the shadows of the great statues of kings old bathing him in darkness. The last two were perhaps the most ominous. King Marcel I, staring down with an expression of sorrow, his greatsword in one hand and a wreath of roses in the other. Opposite of him was the great Begi Moro, the legendary one-eyed first king of Dakmoor, holding a sword in one hand and in the other head of a demon.

The Prince’s focus remained ahead of him with each step. The guards did not draw his attention as he neared, or passed them. It was only the statue of King Marcel that pulled his eyes off the door. Leo halted to observe the long dead king, recalling the stories he heard of Marcel as a child. He was more nervous about today than he anticipated, but tried his best to ignore his nerves and pushed on for the door and finally entered the palace to speak with the King.

The palace interior was filled with vast, cavernous corridors crafted by Dakmoor’s own artisans, Dakauregia was a showcase of the great sculptors and craftsmen in Ghant. The interior was filled with vast, cavernous corridors crafted by Dakmoor’s own artisans, Dakauregia was a showcase of the great sculptors and craftsmen in Ghant. The great hall was a cavernous round chamber with high ceilings and tall windows that bathed the room in light. The smooth marble and sandstone walls, floor and columns glistened in the light, sparkling hues of white, black and purple. Between the columns various retainers and courtiers flittered this way and that, paying Leo little mind.

Except for one. The young woman stepped out from behind one of the columns, an expression of grim severity upon her face. She was tall and thin, with smooth, light skin that had a dusky hue to it, blue eyes and long black hair. Her dress was black and purple, and upon her hip she wore a sword belt with a sheathed shortsword. Slowly she emerged from behind the columns, until she came to stand still in Leo’s way.

Then she turned to face him, and spoke in an accident as true to Dakmoor as any. “So it’s true, then? The double Prince has come to Dakauregia with business for the king. It must be strange for you, coming into this room.”

With his path to the king blocked, Leo stopped. He kept a cool, yet somber, expression on his face, sizing up the woman standing in front of him. “Aye, business with the king.” He glanced beyond the woman briefly, and when he looked back at her said, “And you?”

“Perhaps you’ve heard of me before...probably have. My name is Bastila. The king is my uncle, and he’s very interested in what you have to say. As for me, well...I just had to come and see it for myself, because I wasn’t sure that it was true. Apparently it is,” the princess answered dryly.

“I have, your Highness,” nodded Leo. “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I’m very interested in speaking with your uncle, the King, as well.” The Prince tried to smile, but did so weakly and with tight lips. “If you would excuse me, Princess Bastila.”

“I’ve heard enough, and I’m sure you are.” Bastila stepped aside and curtly added “you’re excused. Tread carefully, Prince Leo. This house was built on the misdeeds of yours.”

Leo inclined his head at the Princess and carried on once she stepped aside. The Prince made his final approach on the end of the great room at a quicker, yet still modest, pace, eager to speak with the king.

At the end of the great hall was another set of double doors, which were already open, and on the other side was the rather quaint throne room of Dakauregia. The marble-walled throne room was a ceremonial chamber where the king could hear the complaints and grievances of the people and meet his ministers. The walls and floor of the throne room were adorned with polished marble slabs that consisted of different colors, ranging from gray to red to purple and black. The king’s throne itself was an ornate chair on a raised podium. The throne dated back to the initial construction of the palace.

Beyond that, the chamber was sparsely furnished. It contained nothing else but a workstation that served as the king’s desk and a few seats reserved for the members of the Royal Advisory Council and guests. Despite its bareness, the throne room was spectacular, with its ample windows that bathed the seated monarch in sunlight and offered an impressive panorama of the Sea of Dakmoor. Dakar was indeed a prosperous capital, and the ceremonial chamber of its rulers had been designed to reflect the city's glorious history.

Three men awaited the Prince of Ghant in the throne room. The man seated at the center of the room on the elevated platform was a pale-skinned middle aged man with dark, piercing blue eyes, short cut black hair and neatly-trimmed black facial hair. He was dressed in rich black garb, covering his entire body aside from his large hands and his head, upon which sat a silver crown embedded with amethysts.

To his left sat a much younger man, who resembled his father in terms of features, height and stature, though he was clean-shaven and had a gentle expression upon his face. On the other side of the king sat another middle-aged man, who resembled the other aside from having a great arrangement of facial hair, from ear to ear and down his neck. At that particular moment he was picking at his nails with a small knife.

The king said nothing as the Prince of Ghant entered the room, merely staring at him, as though he were waiting to see how the Prince would introduce himself.

Leo’s eyes fell on the throne, and the king, first, shifting quickly to take in the other seated at the throne’s side. He stopped short of the podium and deeply inclined his head towards the King, addressing him, “Your Majesty.”

“Prince Leo,” Malibar replied gruffly. “Welcome to Dakauregia. You’ve met my eldest son and heir Martin, and my brother Baldakar.”

“Greetings, old friend,” Martin said with a smile.

Baldakar looked up from picking his nails and said “ah yes, Leo...welcome.”

“Your Royal Highnesses,” Leo smiled back to Martin and Baldakar. Looking at the king now, Leo said, “Thank you for granting me this audience and the opportunity to speak with you, Your Majesty.”

“Yes. What brings you all this way?” asked the king.

“A personal matter, Your Majesty,” the Prince said to the King. “I have come to seek permission to wed Princess Elissa.”

Malibar nodded his head and suppressed a smirk. “I see,” before glancing with sideways eyes at his younger brother. Baldakar was back to picking at his nails when he caught his brother’s gaze upon him.

Baldakar exchanged looks between Malibar and Leo and said “hmm, what was that?”

Likewise, Leo looked between Baldakar and Malibar. He repeated himself while looking at the former this time, “I’m here to ask permission to marry your daughter Elissa.”

Baldakar nearly jumped out of his chair, causing the knife he was using to pick underneath his fingernails to fall out of his hand and onto the floor. “Oh, I see.” Pursing his lips, the prince then asked, “you’re asking me for my daughter’s hand in marriage?”

“I am,” Leo shuffled his feet slightly, even looking to Baldakar’s knife that now rested on the floor below him.

The king’s eyes were laying heavily upon his younger brother, and Baldakar could feel the pressure. Yet all the Prince of Dakmoor could do was scratch at his beard. “With all due respect, Prince Leo, I’ve heard all kinds of good things about you, from both continents, and my daughter thinks very highly of you. But I don’t know you, and I cannot in good conscious give my daughter’s hand in marriage to a man that I do not know.”

For such a pale man, Malibar’s face began to turn beet red, and through the grinding of his teeth, he said to his brother “you have no reason to refuse the prince’s request.”

“...Who said anything about refusing?” Baldakar stared down his brother and added that “I have every intention of vetting the prince personally, and if he proves to my satisfaction, then his request shall be granted.”

Malibar narrowed his eyes and replied “these games are unnecessary…”

“Of course,” nodded Leo with a deep breath. “I will do whatever it takes, Your Highness.”

“Good, then you can meet me in the gardens at dusk. That will give you a few hours to get settled in and say hello to your Aunt Eirene, your young cousins Max and Sabina and Princess Maria,” Baldakar said before leaning over to pick up his knife, and then standing up and stretching.

The king rose from his chair after his brother did, with Martin following closely thereafter. “My son will escort you to your chambers.”

“At dusk then,” Leo repeated and waited for Martin before moving from his position. “Thank you for your time, Your Majesty.”

Martin gestured for Leo to follow him, and began walking in some haste while hoping that Leo was behind him. “This way, your Highness.”

Leo lagged behind Martin at first, but matched his pace to walk alongside him. “That isn’t quite how I expected that to go,” Leo laughed faintly.

Once Martin knew they were out of earshot, Martin asked Leo, “how’d you think it would go?”

“Longer, I suppose,” the Prince shrugged.

He changed the subject rather than linger, asking, “How is Maria?”

“She is well,” answered Martin. “She keeps herself busy with the children and with her equestrian endeavors. I know what you’re thinking, we are far too young to have five children, it’s something I get asked all the time,” he laughed. “ I won’t lie, Leo, all my life I think I’ve shown a good deal of self-restraint, but with Maria, I find that most difficult to maintain.”

“I know the feeling,” muttered Leo, breaking a small smile. He composed himself, “Maria’s a good woman. I’m happy for the both of you.”

Martin nodded. “Thank you...I certainly think that as well. I can’t imagine Elissa encourages restraint either,” he laughed.

“No, not quite,” Leo joined in the laughter. Once his laughter subsided, “Any advice for what I can expect at dusk with your uncle?”

Looking around as he led Leo down the winding yet somehow cavernous halls of the palace, Martin answered “just be yourself...be honest. Uncle Baldie has a bullshit detector unlike anyone I’ve ever known, and he doesn’t like people that come off as phony to him. I think you’ll do just fine.”

“Thank you, I hope so at least,” nodded Leo. “Truth be told, I was far more anxious about this than I ever expected. I almost wish it were dusk already, you know?”

“Be careful what you wish for,” Martin laughed as he began climbing a set of stairs. “Make the most of any downtime you have, because you’ll be out of downtime in no time.”

“Right, famous last words,” Leo chuckled. “I’ll think I’ll take that advice and savor as much as I can.”

After reaching the next floor, almost as if waiting to meet the two princes, Martin’s wife Maria stood just outside of a nearby door. Maria of Latium was Leo’s cousin through his uncle the Late Emperor Jason, and a member of the Imperial House of Claudius. Maria stood patiently, dressed in a burgundy dress that featured a v-collar with three-quarters length sleeves. Her hair was such a shade of dark brown that it may as well have been black, not unlike the two princes, while her eyes were more blue, like her late mother Stephania Pinaria.

With a warm smile, Maria approached Leo and Martin, embracing her cousin before siding up to Martin. She wrapped an arm around him. “Funny running into you two here, especially you, Leo.” Maria turned to Martin quickly and added, “Jason’s finally asleep…and quiet for once.”

Martin went to his wife and embraced her tenderly. “That child is a banshee,” he laughed. “And I thought the twins were bad.” Turning to Leo, Martin added “I love all my children dearly, though the younger ones are prone to outbursts. The twins always tried escaping their cribs, and now that they can walk...they try to get into everything.” Under normal circumstances Martin was an especially affectionate man, but in such polite company as Leo, he exercised self-restraint in the form of stroking his wife’s shoulders. “Jason on the other hand, sleeps long and deep, because when he’s awake...he makes the most out of it.”

“He doesn’t seem all that unlike his namesake,” Leo laughed along with Martin and Maria.

Maria gave a shrug as she laughed, “At least we don’t have to corral him like we do the twins…yet, anyway. Thank God for Marcel. That little boy might only be seven, but he always tries to help.” She looked to Martin with a teasing grin, “Though I suppose Martin plays his part too.”

“Stephania is the same way,” replied Martin with a similar expression. “She tries to do tea parties with the twins to keep them still, though that hardly seems to work.” After another chuckle, Martin said to Leo “Maria’s been spending a lot of time with the horses this past year, a good way to stay in shape. Though sometimes I wonder if she spends a little too much time on horseback...I worry that she might get hurt.”

Maria rolled her eyes, sighing ever so slightly. “There’s no such thing as too much time on horseback. I think you’re just jealous that I’m stronger on horseback than you.” Her tone was light, but far less playful than just moments ago. “We should go for a ride before the big trip back home, Leo. There’s a lot we need to catch up on.” Martin and Maria had decided to travel to Castellum with their children to spend some time with Maria’s Pinarii relatives, half-brother Emperor Constantine and some of her friends that were in Latium. Leo would be accompanying them according to the plan.

“You’re right...I just worry about you too much, when instead you should be worrying about me getting knocked off by a tree branch,” Martin laughed as he pointed at his forehead. “Wasn’t paying attention and it got me right here,” he said to Leo. “She’s certainly more aware on horseback, that’s for sure.”

“More aware, he says. You just can’t admit the truth is all,” Maria shook her head with a grin. “You’re just lucky you didn’t hit your head on the way down,” she gave him a nudge in the side. “I’ll show you the tree later, Leo, or at least where it used to be. I think Malibar might have had it cut down since.”

“Maybe if I survive tonight you can,” Leo finally chimed in.

“What’s tonight? I thought Elissa was gone,” said Maria.

“You know what’s tonight,” Martin said to Maria, trying not to give anything away. “That thing I had to do with your father...the thing I was really nervous about.”

Maria laughed loudly. “There’s no way it will be that bad. Baldie’s like the sweetest man alive. Where are you meeting him?”

“The gardens,” replied Leo plainly.

“Don’t sound so glum about it,” Maria reached forward and gave Leo a playful pat on the shoulder. “It’s not like he’s going to dump you in the canals. But if he does, maybe Martin can show you to the chapel for last rights.”

Laughing, Martin shook his head and answered “I don’t think it will be so bad that he will need to be absolved of sin beforehand. I was just showing him to his room so he can get settled in, and he might see Eirene at some point, and maybe the kids too, if he’s feeling bold.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Maria,” Leo said jokingly. “I’d like to see the kids after I get settled and speak with Aunt Eirene. She’d never let me hear the end of it if I didn’t see her first.”

“In that case, I’ll leave you to it. Carry on, boys,” smiled Maria one last time. “And good luck tonight, Leo.”

“Thank you,” Leo nodded.

Martin gave his wife a kiss before leaving her, and before long it was back to being just him and Leo. “We’re not too far off from your room...it’s down by my cousins’ rooms. Namely, Danel and Baldwin. They shouldn’t trouble you.”

“Elissa’s brothers?” Leo asked almost rhetorically. After a few moments of silence, “Is Eirene usually far from here?”

The Crown Prince of Dakmoor let out a muffled laugh. “Eirene is never far. In fact, if you say her name three times in front of a mirror, she’ll magically appear. I didn’t need to tell you that though, I’m sure you already know.”

“A Claudii skill, I think,” laughed Leo before rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll wait until supper in that case.”

“Very good,” Martin inclined his head as he opened the door to Leo’s chambers. “If you need anything, feel free to send for me. I’m sure your aunt will want to sup with you this evening, and then you’re on your own with Uncle Baldie at dusk,” he grinned.

“I’ll be sure to,” Leo nodded his head with a look over his accommodations. “Thank you again, Martin.”

The Crown Prince nodded. “You’re welcome, Leo. Take care until dinner, and enjoy the view of the sea. You won’t find a better one anywhere else in Ghant.” With that said, Martin smiled and turned around to make his way back down the hall.

[Lacus Magni]

“Night in Dakar”
Dakauregia
Dakar, Dakmoor, Ghant
(Co-written with Ghant)

The Queen’s Solar was a modestly-sized room, primarily designed in a similar architectural style to the other areas of Dakauregia. At the center of the room was a small, yet fine table, furnished with bread, wild boar, a variety of fruits and vegetables, and a whole assortment of food and wine traditionally found at a Latin supper. Eirene of Latium, the Queen of Dakmoor, sat at the center of the table’s right side, Leo sat directly across from her and faced the fireplace. Since Eirene became Queen in 2014, the decor of the solar took on Latin stylings alongside other, more traditional Ghantish designs.

The most prominent decoration of Latin variety was a large portrait above the room’s fireplace, depicting a chaotic battle between Latins, Celts, and Ghantish figures. At the portrait’s center was a slain man in traditional Latin battle dress with a halo above his head, being held by another man dressed in similar fashion. To their right was a figure raising a purple banner defaced by a golden eagle from the ground as other forces fled the battle.

The Queen’s plate included a modest helping of food, which she washed down with local wine. After a sip, she patted her lips with her napkin. “Do you recognize the painting? I see you staring at it, nephew,” asked Eirene.

Leo looked up from his plate while chewing on his latest bite of boar. His aunt reached for a cluster of grapes while Leo paused. “It’s a battle.”

“As perceptive as you are descriptive,” laughed Eirene. The Queen relaxed, leaning back in her seat. “You know which battle, I know you do. You recognize that banner, two princes from our dynasty.”

“Adrianople,” he simply stated. Eirene cracked a grin, prompting Leo to continue. “The slain Prince Theodosius at center, his older brother Emperor Peter is lifting him up, presumably Edward III or the Celts are those fleeing the field.”

“Hopefully Edward with his tail between his legs…the traitor that he was,” remarked the Queen before taking a sip of wine. “Though I’ve never been too sure.” Leo looked back down at his plate while Eirene continued speaking, picking at his food all the while. “I’ve been searching for a painting of Queen Theodosia’s revenge on Edward, but thus far no luck,” she shrugged with a smile. “Is the boar not to your liking? Your mother told me it was one of your favorites.”

“No, it’s very good, aunt Eirene,” Leo shook his head.

“There is nothing to be nervous about tonight,” she smiled. “Baldakar is not nearly as menacing as he looks sometimes. Trust me.” With a smirk, she added, “How terrifying could a man that was friends with my brother truly be?”

Leo snorted a faint laugh. “But when it involved his daughters.”

“True enough, though Jason only acted such a way when boys mistreated his daughters – as Baldie would. Do you plan on mistreating Elissa?” Eirene countered rising from her seat at the table, walking around it with wine in tow.

“Of course not,” he looked at Eirene.

She pulled out the empty chair next to Leo and sat next to him. “Then fear not, you’re prepared enough,” Eirene smiled at her nephew and filled his glass with more wine. “Now eat and drink more, and don’t forget to enjoy yourself for once. And remember that your uncle Jason was very good friends with Baldie. One of the few that might have been a true friend at that.”

With a sigh, Leo nodded. “You’re right.”

“I know,” Eirene patted Leo’s hand with a smile. “I’m always right, dear. Now just relax, eat and drink, and enjoy what down time you have now, because it won’t last.”

Leo and Eirene continued their discussion speaking of relatives and catching up over the course of their meal. As the day neared dusk, Eirene glanced out the window as she sipped from her glass. She told her nephew, “You should be on your way soon, try to be there early if you can.”

The Prince nodded and pinched the bridge of his nose. As he stood from his seat, so to did Eirene and they embraced each other in a familial hug. “Tell your mother to visit more, or at least once,” smiled Eirene once the two separated. “She and your sisters are welcome anytime they’d like to visit. As are you.”

“Thank you for everything, aunt Eirene,” Leo nodded.

Eirene extended an arm to towards the door. “The guards outside will show you to the gardens.” At that Leo thanked his aunt once more before exiting the solar and meeting the guards waiting in the hallway.

Sure enough, two guards were waiting in the hallway outside the door, and one of them said “follow us, your Highness.” They led Prince Leo down the hall and back to the main floor, before exiting through a side door that led into the palace gardens. By then the sky had darkened, turning to a deep shade of purple. The garden just outside the palace facade was lush with greenery, flowers and trees, while a cobblestone path winded through them.

“That way,” the guard told Leo, before bowing his head and going back into the palace, the other guard following closely behind him. At that point the Prince of Ghant was alone amidst the setting of the sun while various birds and insects made noise around him. The path that lay ahead had several fireflies flashing as they flew among the vegetation.

At the guard’s direction, Leo walked into the palace gardens, but not before inclining his head at the guard with a “Thank you.” Initially, he only looked forward. But with each step his eyes wandered the garden and the surrounding nature, though he kept a plain look on his face with his head focused forward.

Through the darkness at the end of the path stood Baldakar, clad in black clothes, holding a lantern in front of one of the city’s many canals. Right behind tied to a stake was a gondola with two oars in it. “Your chariot awaits,” he said glumly, though smirking as he gestured towards the gondola.

Leo stopped just short of Baldakar and the gondola, shifting his eyes between the two. He took a deep breath, once more glancing at Baldakar with an attempted smile, before carefully stepping into the boat to take a seat.

Baldakar set the lantern onto a hook at one end of the gondola and undid the rope tied to the stake before climbing in after Leo. When he did, he grabbed the oars and put them into the water. “Most people use one long one. I like to use two short ones,” he explained to Leo as he pushed off. “More control, and I don’t have to stand up to row the boat.”

Leo ran a hand through his hair before rubbing the back of his neck. All he said in reply was “I’ve never been on the canals before.”

“Well then we will have to make your first time memorable,” Baldakar laughed as he got the gondola going. “I know all the shortcuts and hidden paths. This is where I spent many of my boyhood nights, much to my father’s chagrin,” he laughed again as he rowed the gondola down the narrow canal. Trees and bushes completely flanked the canal on both sides, obscuring the view on either side, and were it not for the lantern hanging on the hook at the back of the gondola, it would have been very dark indeed.

“The hidden paths and the best places to get rid of a body on a very dark night?” Leo joked with a light laugh. He looked over his shoulder momentarily, but looked back at Baldakar when he said, “Your Highness, I want you to know that I care for Elissa a great deal.”

Baldakar shook his head. “Best place to get rid of a body on a very dark night is over the cliffs. Fortunately for you we’re going in the opposite direction,” he sniggered. Before long the overgrown vegetation ended and a long black tunnel began. As the gondola passed through it, Baldakar responded, “I know you do, because if you didn’t, Elissa wouldn’t take you seriously. That’s why we’re here, so if I were you, I’d start telling me things I didn’t already know,” he said with a grin.

“I wouldn’t presume to know what you know or don’t know about me, with respect Your Highness,” replied Leo, looking beyond Baldakar at the ever shrinking faint lights left behind as they ventured deeper into the tunnel.

“...Maybe you should just presume that I know everything,” the Prince of Dakmoor laughed, the sound of it louder than usual on account of being in the tunnel, which was barely wide enough for the gondola to pass through, and not high enough for either of them to stand up.

Leo laughed along with Baldakar, though faintly. “I know you were close with my uncle, one of his good friends. Sometimes…it felt like he was more of a father to me than my own. My father and I didn't get on well, not that we fought, but it was just easier talking with my uncle. Most may look at that cautiously given some of his past dealings with women, and the fact that I have a bastard now.”

“...Your father was a good man, in spite of his faults,” replied Baldakar with a slight frown as he rowed through the canal tunnel. “My own brother considered him more of a brother than he ever did me, and that’s saying something. Jason on the other hand...well, he was a good man, don’t get me wrong. Jason was just a man who lived life to the hilt, got the most out of it, and didn’t apologize for it. He had illegitimate children, sure, but only when he was either unmarried or in a marriage that he didn’t want.”

“Sometimes it seems like the only thing politics does is get in the way,” nodded Leo. “I guess what I’m getting at is that I don’t want there to be any doubt as to my devotion to your daughter. Because I know how it might seem from the outside given part of my past…” Leo paused before mentioning “…my brother and my son. Not that I’m assuming you have doubts – anytime your name has come up people have only mentioned good remarks.”

Badakar shrugged. “I knew them both, your uncle better than most, I suppose, and I never doubted his intentions or his devotion to family.” As he rowed, he pivoted the gondola so it could turn at a sharp angle. “Let me tell you a story. You know about Jason and my cousin Baela, at least you do by now. You know about Larunda and Juturna. Larunda never really accepted Jason as her father, she didn’t really care about it. Jason never forced himself into her life, never demanded anything. All he wanted to do was be there for her, keep that door open. Hell, when she went up to Thule to marry the heir of Tor, Jason made a special trip with me up there just so he could be there. For no other reason then he just wanted to keep his word. So when you talk about how things seem from the outside, or what other people say, let me ask you this. How many of those people would travel to Tor to attend the wedding of a long lost and estranged daughter that didn’t want anything to do with them?”

“Too few,” Leo sat more comfortably in the gondola.

“Too few indeed.” Sighing, Baldakar leaned back in the gondola as he turned a corner. The tunnel ahead of him appeared to be a dead end, covered in ivy and vines. “Watch your head,” he said to Leo as they approached the end of the tunnel.

At the instruction, Leo leaned down once they reached the end of the tunnel. He asked, “Where are we?”

The gondola passed through the wall of ivy and vines, and emerged out under a starry sky. The canal was flanked by short walls of ivy-covered cobblestone, dimly lit by tall black street lanterns. The buildings of Dakar were all lit-up, and in the distance one could hear talking and music. “We’re out on the town. I told you I know all the shortcuts. The canals are where I go to relax and think. It’s very calm, as you can see.”

The Prince of Ghant returned to a more comfortable position when the gondola exited the tunnel and lights were once again visible. “I can. I enjoy calm places like this.”

At this, Baldakar laughed. “There are no places such as this. Marcel made sure of that when he laid the groundwork for this place.” The prince rowed the gondola down the canal lut into the more open part of the city’s waterworks. All around there were lights on the facades of sandstone buildings with violet rooftops, people on decks and in other gondolas elsewhere in the water.

“This might be the only place outside of Latium where you see so much purple,” remarked Leo as he took in the surrounding view. “Are the canals always this busy?”

“Not in the winter it isn’t,” Baldakar laughed again. “Too cold to enjoy a night out on the water. That’s when we’d go underground to the catacombs and hunt for buried treasure.”

“What sort of treasure is down there?” Leo joined in laughter.

Baldakar shrugged. “Nobody knows, and that’s the point. It can be whatever you want it to be.”

“Is that where we’re headed?” asked Leo.

Laughing again, Baldakar shook his head. “No, that’s in the opposite direction, the way we just came from. We’re not going anywhere other than where we already are. This is our final destination.” True to his word, Baldakar pulled his oars up and laid them at his feet, while the gondola just sat still in the water beneath the starry moonlit sky.

“Ah,” the Prince of Ghant nodded. Leo ran a hand through his hair before briefly gazing at the sky. He laughed and said, “Few nights in Castellum or Ghish are as clear as this.”

“That’s because Ghish is full of smoke and mirrors, and Castellum is too bright to see the stars,” the Prince of Dakmoor observed. “Best place to stargaze over there is Rhegedia.”

“Until you get too close to Utica,” Leo chuckled. “Have you visited there often?”

“...Often enough to know. I’ve been most places at least once, and that’s enough times for me to get a measure of them.” Baldakar leaned back into the back of the boat and added “but there’s no place like home.”

“Home never felt like one place to me. Adrianople, Castellum, Ghish…I was even in Utica with my legion briefly before my uncle died,” mused Leo. “If I was around family it felt like home, I suppose. No matter where it was.”

Baldakar considered this carefully. “I see. Eventually you might have to pick one and stick with it. Elissa isn’t one for frequent travelling outside of necessity.”

“I know,” Leo took a breath. “That will be Ghish for as long as Nathan allows me to serve as his Justiciar, or until I’m needed elsewhere.”

“God knows that Ghish could use some stern, Latin leadership,” the elder prince observed with a heavy sigh. “Especially with Cassandra and her sycophants running things lately. No offense to your cousin, of course.”

Leo inclined his head, now rubbing his hands. “It isn’t the direction I would have gone. But I do my best to offset some of those more…extreme views,” he followed with a faint, nervous laugh, “debate is expected at meetings in my experience.”

“Yeah, you don’t get much debate around here,” laughed the Prince of Dakmoor. “And if there is one then it’s behind closed doors. I try to stay out of it as much as possible, because most of the time it’s a lot of nonsense.”

Leo laughed with Baldakar, “Nonsense and posturing.”

“Down in Ghish, that’s the case,” Baldakar pointed out. “Up here though it’s basically all about what Malibar wants. Most of the time he gets his way, but sometimes I have to let him know what I think. He doesn’t always like that but hey, we’ve gone round and round our entire lives, so he’s used to it.”

“Someone has to do it, otherwise court becomes nothing but flattery,” added Leo.

“Yeah well most of the time that’s exactly what it is,” the Prince of Dakmoor chuckled. “People coming from far and wide to kiss ass.”

“Better them than me,” Leo remarked. “Those people must not know the difference between showing respect and ass kissing.”

Baldakar raised his eyebrows as he stared off into the water. “Then perhaps you can explain to me what you think the difference is.”

Leo pursed his lips for a moment while he pondered on a response. “The endless fawning, the yes-men, those that tell us what we want to hear instead of what we should hear. I see it as Justiciar, just as I saw it as Master of Offices. Whether it was my subordinates or fellow councillors of Constantine or Nathan. I tell them when they’re wrong and why I think that.” He leaned forward, “It’s easier to be deceptive and tell people what they want to hear, but there’s no benefit to it, except maybe to oneself.”

“...and what about me?” Baldakar asked, curiously. “What do I need to hear?”

“That your mind was made up before we came out here because of the faith you place in Elissa’s decision making and judgement,” Leo said before a quick shake of his head. “She’s far smarter than I am. And before we…well, I was ready to drag out getting married for as long as I could.”

“...you make it sound like all I wanted to do was enjoy a night on the water with my future son-in-law,” the Prince of Dakmoor replied while scratching his beard.

“Even still, it rarely hurts to be cautious,” Leo spoke calmly. “Especially when it concerns loved ones.”

The Prince of Dakmoor dipped his hands into the cool water of the wide pool of water that the gondola was floating in. “I was never really worried about Elissa, for what it’s worth. She’s resourceful and keen...like my father was. She figured out Sydalon rather quickly when she was there, same with Castellum. Her ability to gain the measure of people and places is strong. Like my father...it never took him much time to figure out what he wanted to do, and once he knew he acted decisively. She’s the same way.”

“Your father was a great man. My grandmother Diana spoke very highly of him,” Leo nodded in agreement with a pause. “That sounds like Elissa. It’s a good skill to have, especially in a place like Ghish.”

“My father was a great man, but a...rather disappointing father,” observed Baldakar thoughtfully, sighing as he rowed the gondola. “Nothing we ever did was good enough, his standards were impossible to live up to. My mother used to say that we should always strive to do the right thing and follow our hearts, but I was the only one of us that did, and that never really did me much good. Perhaps you already know this Leo, but expectations are a prison. With my children, I didn’t put that on them, not like my brother did. I told them to be smart...to act wisely, but what is smart, and what is wise? Whichever outcome works out the best for you.”

Baldakar considered his next words carefully before continuing. “Elissa thinks that’s you, and unlike my father, I don’t second guess the decisions of my children.”

Leo listened to Baldakar attentively, perking up as the Prince of Dakmoor finished. “Thank you, Your Highness. I’m grateful for that, and I certainly won’t let her down.”

“Good,” Baldakar smiled. “Because if you ever hurt her, I’ll tear your fucking balls out through your goddamn throat,” he added with a scowl.

“Never,” Leo shook his head rapidly. He repeated, “I’d never…I won’t, sir, you have my word.”

Smiling again, Baldakar responded, “well that’s good. We don’t need to speak anymore of that then. Now that we understand each other, know that you have my blessings as the father of the bride.”

Leo sighed, breaking into a faint smile. “Thank you, sir.”

“Speaking of blessings,” the prince added after a pause, “Elissa is still gathering them. She’s in Gauekoizarra getting them from my mother, and from what I’ve gathered she’s traveling to Castellum to get them from Alazne Dain.”

“Of course. Constantine is already aware, so I expect the Empress gladly provide her blessing,” mused Leo. “I don’t know your mother all too well, but I hope the same is true there.”

“She’s exceedingly generous,” the Prince of Dakmoor pointed out. “As is Alazne, though her entourage isn’t quite as accommodating. I only hope your cousin the Emperor is prepared to deal with them and their cabal. I’ve spent my life around Dakmooran noblewomen, so I know how they act and behave. Not like the Latins in my experience.”

Leo hesitated a moment to consider Baldakar’s words. “He’s lucky to have a high tolerance for that sort of behavior by now,” he laughed lightly. “And, of course, Violant isn’t far if he or Elissa need a break from it all.”

“...Even Violant has her limits,” Baldakar laughed. “Her and Alazne’s cabal go way back. They’re not strangers to each other by any means.”

The Prince of Ghant and Latium continued to laugh. He added, “It can’t be that bad, can it?”

“Well, when you go to Castellum I’m sure you’ll find out for yourself,” Baldakar snigged as he rowed the boat through the canal along the edge of the water. “I’m sure you’ll be alright.”

“Aye,” the Prince nodded in reply. “It was only a year ago, it couldn’t have changed too much since I’ve been away.”

“...You’d be surprised.” Having said that, the Prince of Dakmoor shrugged, staring at the surface of the water as he rowed. The stars reflected upon the water, and knew that in far away lands, his daughter looked upon the same stars. Though they were likely thinking about very different things indeed.

[Ghant]

“The Cabal of Castellum”
Castellum, Latium
(Co-written with Lacus Magni)

Princess Elissa of Dakmoor walked with dignity and purpose, like any proper Dakmaran would. Nevermind that she was the daughter of a second son, her grandfather was a man who in life commanded the respect of the Latins that few others in the history of Ghant could hope to match. She was eager to gain the audience of her cousin Alazne Dain, though perhaps less so that of her ladies-in-waiting, all of them girls that she knew from childhood, and most of them needling and grasping.

The Princess of Dakmoor was still quite young, twenty-two years old with only a cursory secondary education, though her primary schooling was comprehensive and she attended two years of ladies college, which for her purposes was good enough. She combined the most pronounced attributes of her Dakmaran father and her Sydalene mother. She was a few inches under six feet, lean and slender but shapely, possessed silky shoulder-length hair and deep blue eyes against slightly tanned skin with dark freckles and her arms, legs and back. On this particular occasion she wore a formal dress, black and purple after the colors of her house, featuring a pin in the fashion of a white rose.

She was joined by her companion Princess Jana of Jehenna, who was less than a year younger than Elissa and a close friend. They knew each other from Ghish, where Elissa and Jana were both courtly companions of Empress Sophia. Jana most often represented the interests of her brother King Jori of Jehenna at the Imperial Court, which she did with great tact and zeal. Jana was learned, educated and well-connected through her grandmother Theodora Claudia. She, like her siblings, had dark brown hair and dusky blue-grey eyes with fair features. She was pretty, but never overplayed it.

Waiting for the two princesses was Princess Titania of Aurunca. She was the daughter of Prince John, Duke of Aurunca and Princess Diana of Dakmoor, making her cousin of not only Elissa, but also Emperor Constantine. Due to this, Titania was a close companion of Empress Alazne at Latin court. Titania wore her dark hair down, falling past her shoulders and blue eyes that normally stood out among typical Latin company.

“Elissa,” Titania beamed a pleasant smile at her cousin as she offered a quick embrace. “And Jana, it's so lovely to see you again.” To all who knew her, Titania was kind and forthright in her actions. She stood at an average height with an appealing figure, her hands crossed in front of her red dress. “Alazne has been eagerly awaiting your arrival. She’s waiting in her study if you want to go right there.” She extended an arm out and began to lead Elissa and Jana through the bustling halls of the palace. She laughed playfully, “I pray the guards weren’t too much trouble. They can be a tad overzealous following their protocols at times.”

“Can’t say I blame them,” Elissa replied glumly. “Especially after what’s happened.”

“Even if the guards were trouble, they wouldn’t have been much trouble,” added Jana with a winced expression. “They know who we are...me especially.”

“Certainly,” Titania smiled to both. “There will be no trouble such as that, thankfully. But of course there have been additional measures taken since you both have last visited.” The three walked past a portrait of the late Emperor Jason, one of the more recent additions to the corridor leading to the Imperial apartments where Empress Alazane was waiting. Titania continued to speak with the princesses as they neared the apartment doors, flanked by a guard on each side. “I understand you’re to dine with the Emperor and Empress tonight. Though I’ve yet to hear if cousin Leo will be in attendance.”

“He may be running a little behind,” answered Elissa. “Had some business in Dakar with my father and uncle. I’m sure he’ll be here as soon as he can.”

Jana nodded, and added that “I’m sure your father would insist that he at least stay the night, which would have delayed him further.”

At that, Elissa responded, “He seems to take his time with most things anyway. Which I don’t have a problem with. Gives us more time to get our affairs in order.”

“That does sound like him,” Titania joined with a polite smile. The girls entered the imperial apartment, passing by a guard who stood still at the door. As they walked through the double doors and into the residence, the main room was vast and ornately decorated in typical imperial style. “Have you met Princess Diana yet?” Titania spoke of the Imperial couple’s first, and newborn child as they neared Alazne’s study.

Both women shook their heads. “I have not,” Elissa answered. “I’m sure she’s lovely though. I look forward to meeting her.”

“Likewise,” added Jana with her eyes upon the floor. “Tonight, perhaps.”

Titania nodded to both, “I know she’s still quite young, but she seems a very sweet child already. I’ve hardly heard a peep or cry from her.”

“I find that surprising,” observed Elissa. “Children of Dain stock tend to be...noisy.”

Titania led the two further into the apartment, past a wall of portraits of recent rulers, distinguished family members, and those deemed close or in favor of the family. The wall featured Titania’s Claudii grandfather Leo and her great-grandfather Jason, and a few portraits beyond them was Miraxes, King of Dakmoor. As they moved past Miraxes portrait, Titania pointed out that, “I’m not sure if you’ve seen it, but Avia Diana asked for grandfather’s portrait to be hung after his funeral. Other than Empress Galara or Alexandra, it might be the only of a Ghantar in the palace.”

Elissa looked at the portrait of her grandfather. “He died before I was born, so what I know of him, father and grandmother have told me. The portrait doesn’t do him justice, he was more stern than that,” she joked.

Jana paused to study the portrait, and then said that “my father used to tell me that Miraxes didn’t leave Dakauregia, but when he did it was in purple armor. Impractical perhaps, but my father explained that when the people saw him, he wanted them to see him as a warrior, prepared to do battle.”

Titania waited while the princesses observed the portrait and remarked, “Certainly a remarkable and imposing sight.” Waiting a few moments longer, Titania continued on and soon enough they reached Alazne’s study. Titania entered first and announced, “Princess Elissa of Dakmoor and Princess Jana of Jehnna, Your Imperial Majesty.”

“Come in, all of you,” a voice called out, prompting Elissa and Jana to enter the room. It was a vast room, featuring a prominent chandelier hanging at the center of the room. On the floor below, decorative sofas and chairs sat facing a large fireplace. Behind a desk at the far wall of the study were windows, allowing the sunshine to illuminate the room and its cream colored walls. As with Empresses past, Alazne was afforded the ability to decorate the room as she pleased with portraits, busts, tapestries or photographs.

Alazne wasted no time in decorating the room to her satisfaction. Portraits of various Dain ancestors hung on the walls, going back a thousand years. There were busts of some of them, namely her grandfather Danel and her great-grandfather Abelar. Tapestries depicting great battles in the history of Dakmoor and a few photographs of home and her brothers and sister. Elsewhere hung rich violet fabrics and jeweled eggs with amethysts and sapphires sitting on small tables that sparkled in the light.

The Empress sat in a simple wooden chair with cushions supporting her, while her arms were folded in her lap. She wore a purple silk dress that perfectly covered her tall, lean figure and supple feminine features, and a great amethyst necklace, the great jewel hanging down just above her breasts, the brilliant color of the gem matching her eyes. Her skin was pale and unblemished with nary a freckle upon it, and her face was remarkably fair to the eyes. Her hair was a long silken black that hung down over the back of the chair and tumbled down to the small of her back, where another woman carefully brushed it. This woman was known to be Atia Loi, one of the Empress’s many ladies-in-waiting, all of whom were sitting in chairs and on couches throughout the room.

The ladies-in-waiting consisted of Atia Loi as the Mistress of Hair, followed by Jamilla Jaitsi, Amareth Amaraun, Sara Sastakai, Jeyne Mardak, Mabel Martxa and Betha Beltza. Of them, Atia, Amareth, Jamilla and Sara were ladies-in-waiting of Empress Sophia along with Alazne, and when Alazne married Constantine they joined her entourage as her ladies-in-waiting. Jeyne, Mabel and Betha joined Alazne directly from Dakmoor, for various reasons.

Atia Loi was also a very pretty girl, petite and shapely, with long black hair that went down to the small of her back, hanging loosely about her, and had gray eyes and pale skin. She had a reputation for being very good at grooming and the tending of a lady’s hair, and suffice it to say her relationship with Alazne, as well as the relationship between their fathers, was such that Alazne practically begged Atia to join her in Latium. Atia of course could not refuse such a request, and Sophia was generous enough to release Atia from her service.

Jamilla Jaitsi was quite prudish yet also somehow demure. Her dark brown hair was so long that it fell down to the other side of her hourglass figure, and was quite voluptuous. Yet, her dark blue eyes were intense like a storm, and she was usually very quiet and still. A lady of a mountain house, Jamilla was few of words and action, and when she moved or spoke, it was done deliberately and with purpose. Nobody gave better advice than Jamilla, which was why Alazne wanted her too.

Amareth Amaraun was tall and skinny with sharp features, piercing blue eyes that seemed to burn, and kept her black hair cut at the shoulders, and despite her severe look was quite nice actually. She was easy to talk to and calm, and whenever Alazne became frustrated Amareth was the one that could talk her down. Some women had wine, but Alazne had Amareth.

Sara Sastakai was quite pretty, tall, fair and lean, with very long black hair and ocean blue eyes. Her family was one of prominence, closely connected to both the Dakmarans and the Orinberes, as the Queen Mother of Dakmoor’s mother was a Sastakai, the sister of Sara’s great-grandmother. She was acutely aware of Ghantish high court dealings as a result of these connections and kept Alazne informed of matters that few others had access to.

The last four that rounded out Alazne’s Ghantish ladies-in-waiting were chosen for less specific reasons relating to their skill and more due to their connections. Jeyne Mardak was from a cadet branch of the Royal House Dakmaran of Dakmoor and her great-grandfather was one Michael Cladius, younger brother of the mighty Jason Claudius. Michael’s daughter Samara Claudia married Martin Mardak, and Jeyne was their granddaughter. Unfortunately for Jeyne, the apple fell far from the tree. She was soft-spoken and timid, with grey eyes and dark brown hair and a shallow face. She wasn’t unattractive by any means, but her insecurities obscured her potential. She was intelligent however and of the Claudii, which meant that in Latium she was far more useful than in Dakmoor, where her family led a rather unassuming existence as long-branched off cadets of the Dakmaran Dynasty.

The same could mostly be said of Mabel Martxa, otherwise known as Meek Mabel in Dakmoor. Mabel was chinless, chicken-legged and flat-chested, with large round blue eyes and dark brown hair, a gentle spirit but especially timid and lacking in social confidence. All of this could be overlooked however, because Mabel was the great-granddaughter of Jason Claudius himself, by way of his daughter Theodora Claudia. Theodora married Danel Dain, who was Alazne’s grandfather in addition to Mabel’s. This made Mabel both the first cousin of the Latin Empress as well as Claudii descended. She was Alazne’s golden goose, even if she didn’t realize it.

Betha Beltza was the ringer, and everyone else knew it, including Betha herself. Black Betha as she was called in Dakmoor was tall and lithe, yet shapely and supple, with long thick black hair and dark brown eyes that contrasted with fair skin peppered with black freckles all over. She was a gossipy type, unrefined and without a sense of restraint in her words and actions. Alazne personally wasn’t especially close with Betha nor could it be said that they were ever friends, as in the past their families feuded and the Beltza’s were not on the best of terms with the Dakmarans either. However, Betha was Atia’s first cousin, and Atia’s confidant, and as was courtesy with the lead Ghantish lady-in-waiting, she could choose one other lady-in-waiting. She chose Betha, for no other reason than they were very close and Atia would feel better if Betha was around.

I am a lady in waiting
A whispering woman
I find myself in quietude
The silent half of
Totality
My dignity, that of
Humility
My pride is my
Piety
Wearing a veil of
Patience
By waiting is my name
My game
My call
My all
Behind this wall
Flowers in bloom
And the ripest of fruit
Awaiting the harvest ahead
The harvester at my narrow gate
Sent by King and Queen
To tend me
Mend me
Of those who
Offend me
By trampling upon my
Precious vines and flowers
Blind to their eternal power
To detect, reflect
The lasting light

So it is not for one
That I must remain
But for many,
Many to lead and tame
Thus I sit
In this humbling glory...
A lady in waiting

After introductions, Titania was less formal and moved to an empty seat on one of the sofas, sitting next to Victoria Claudia, Alazne’s Mistress of Robes and head of her office. She sat comfortably, straightening out her dress and resting her hands on her lap with her legs crossed at her ankles. Victoria was among the most well connected women in the room. Not only a member of the Claudii dynasty, she was the eldest child of Florian Claudius and Alexandra Tarpeia, both of whom were cousins of the late Emperor Jason VI Augustus.

Victoria didn’t rise from her seat upon the two princesses’s entrance. She quickly ceased twirling the ends of her long, blonde hair and then smiled to Elissa and Jana without a word. As if not missing a beat from an ongoing conversation, Victoria spoke to Alazne, “I touched base with Theodotus,” she spoke of Theodotus Cosconius who was the Senior Cubicularius – her equivalent in the Emperor’s office. “Constantine had an ‘urgent’ meeting with Duke of Ossonoba sprung upon him. But they don’t believe it will interfere with your plans this evening,” she explained to Alazne

“If it concerns my brother Beric, then rest assured, it will interfere with my plans this evening,” the Empress countered. “I am already familiar with the insults levied upon my brother by Thomas, as is the Emperor.” Alazne pointed out in impeccable Latin.

Those that knew Atia Loi knew that she couldn’t speak Latin, and only barely understood it. She heard the name “Thomas,” which was enough for her to respond. “You’re wasting your time speaking of Thomas to Victoria,” Atia explained in Ghantish. “She cannot act against him because of his father.”

As Atia spoke, Alazne greeted both Elissa and Jana, though differently. With Jana she embraced and kissed on both cheeks as they were cousins, Jana’s mother being the sister of Alazne’s father. Elissa on the other hand was a simple embrace, and Alazne referred to her as “Your Highness.”

“Technically I ought to be calling you ‘your Highness,’” laughed Elissa as she spoke to the Empress.

“That would be unnecessary,” Alazne countered with a wave of her hand. “I may be the Empress, but you are still my cousin, and Begimoro too. An informality exists between us, and the ancients would have it the way it has always been, your Highness.”

“He said he wasn’t able to explain yet, but I hear the Duke was already in his audience,” Victoria turned to Alazne as she spoke, her stare previously focused on Atia after her remarks. “I’ll speak with him again and find out.”

“Make no mistake, if the Duke means to complain to the Emperor about my brother, and I find out about it, then I will take exception,” the Empress explained with a frown.

Jana scratched the side of her neck and observed, “I’ve heard about this conflict between your brother and Thomas of Ossonoba. I was at the party, but I did not witness this exchange. Perhaps Thomas’s honor was wounded by some perceived slight?”

At this Alazne shook her head. “There was no slight, and there is no conflict. My brother is honorable, and if Thomas is in conflict with him, then it is because he is without.”

Atia wrinkled her nose as she brushed Alazne’s hair, and then she deigned to speak once more. “I think that the Duke is aware of the influence that Beric has in your personal life, and since he is not a woman, he cannot be directly placed into your retinue. This makes him appear as an interloper, and the Duke does not wish to compete for influence over the imperial court and its charges.”

“I don’t believe he’s foolish enough to directly complain about Beric to Constantine, he might be a fool, but not fool enough to know his remarks wouldn’t find their way to you, one way or another,” Victoria pointed out. “It’s probably due to Leona and Thomas’s engagement. This is her third postponement since announcing the engagement.”

“...If what Beric has told me is any indication, then I can see why Leona keeps postponing,” the Empress pointed out.

Elissa shook her head. “Regardless of the character of this Thomas of Ossonoba, we all know the character of Princess Leona. How many courtships has she balked on? I’m not exactly surprised by this development. In fact, I would’ve expected it based on what I’ve seen in the past.”

At that point Jamilla entered the conversation with a resounding, “she wasted her chance with the Emperor of Ghant,” to which the other ladies of Dakmoor said “amen” in unison.

“Is it truly a wasted opportunity if his heart was elsewhere the whole time?” Titania mused to no one in particular.

“Clearly it wasn’t, if it was previously with Sophia, and then with Leona,” clarified Jana, annoyed with the topic of conversation. “Nobody would ever call the Emperor of Ghant morally upright, but at least he had the good sense to marry appropriately.” The girls nodded in agreement, before Atia coughed in interruption.

“No talking about men, we do that enough already,” Atia said with a pinched face. “Not while the Four Horsemen are coming to court.”

“The Four Seasons, I thought they called themselves,” squaked Mabel Martxa. “For each of them has the deposition of a different season of the year.”

Atia grimaced. “Whatever they’re called, they bring nothing but misery and woe. Sounds like the horsemen to me.”

“I think it's a cute name,” Titania remarked, however next to her Victoria leaned back into the sofa and glanced at a nearby clock.

“If you have someplace to be, you can go,” Alazne told Victoria, noticing her look at the clock. “I doubt you want to be party to our whimsical conversation anyway.”

“Theodotus should be leaving his meeting soon, so I’d like to get that over with,” replied Victoria, gracefully rising from the sofa. “I shouldn’t be long. I’ll require Jeyne as well.”

Like a deer in the headlights, Jeyne Mardak looked up at Victoria and stammered, “muh muh me?”

Alazne nodded her head once, slowly and told Jeyne “please attend Victoria, Jeyne, and keep your wits about you. Remember to watch your footing too, we can’t have you stubbing any toes.”

The other girls grinned at that, and Jeyne stood up and bowed. “Yuh yuh yes, your Majesty,” Jeyne replied as she ran her hands over the skirt of her dress. “I shall return when my business is concluded.” As she approached Victoria, she curtsied to both Elissa and Jana, though to Elissa it was especially low. Afterward she came to a stop at Victoria and said “after you, Mistress.”

“Thank you,” Victoria curtsied to Alazne. “This way, Jeyne. First we’ll be stopping at Theodotus’s office…” Victoria began, speaking Latin as her voice trailed off the closer the pair came to exiting the study.

Jeyne tried to walk side by side with Victoria, though in the course of doing so she nearly tripped and fell. Fortunately, she caught herself, and in better Latin then her cohorts, she responded by saying that “what honor do I owe Lord ta ta Theodotus?” she asked sheepishly.

Victoria only responded upon reaching the hallway. “So that we can find out what the Duke of Ossonoba’s unplanned meeting with the Emperor was about, if it’s over that is. He owes me a few favors and I think Beric was discussed, just as Alazne suspects. If not, I have to finalize a few more matters with her schedule tomorrow. You’ve been settling in well, so it would be good for you to learn some of the more difficult tasks.”

“Yuh yuh yes, but why me?” Jeyne asked, surprised and confused. “Why not Lady Mabel?”

“For starters, you have your wits about you and you speak the language well,” smiled Victoria. “Though I do plan on showing Mabel a few things as well, I just felt it was best to get started with you first.”

Jeyne nodded and replied by saying “as you wish, Mistress suh suh Victoria, and thank you. My grandmother taught me when I was little.”

“Lady Samara is a good woman,” Victoria nodded. “My family has always spoken fondly of her and your great-father.” The women turned a corner and exited the Imperial residence, soon walking up a flight of stairs. “I have no doubt both prepared you well for where you are now.”

“Ta ta thank you, Mistress Victoria,” smiled Jeyne bashfully. “He died when I was young, but I remember him. He was a kind man.”

Victoria smiled at Jeyne and the two walked in unison down the upper floor hallway, leading to the Cubicularius office and Theodotus Cosconius. While the hallway was lightly populated with staff or people walking up and down the floors, the office itself was full of movement. Though not to be rude, some individuals in the office moved around Victoria and Jeyne as if they were ordinary people. However, a secretary was seated just inside the room, quickly standing when Victoria and Jeyne entered to offer a curtsy.

“Is Cosconius in yet?” asked Victoria.

“He should just be leaving his meeting with the Emperor, my lady,” the secretary said once she found her seat again. “I don’t expect that he'll be long, if you don’t mind waiting a few minutes.”

Victoria shook her head lightly, as if considering what she wanted to do. “We’ll wait in that case,” the Mistress of Robes replied. The secretary led Victoria and Jeyne into Theodotus’s office, offering them water, tea, or coffee while they waited for the return of the Senior Cubicularius. Jeyne sat down nervously in one of the chairs and helped herself to some tea as though she were at one of her childhood tea parties.

[Lacus Magni]

“Numbnuts”
Thomas
Palace of Augustus
Castellum

The streets of Castellum were exceptionally busy today, traffic drawing to a halt the closer one was to Velia and the Palatine. On most days, cyclists would weave around or between stalled traffic, but today even they found difficulty. Prince Thomas and Princess Marcia of Ossonoba were stuck in the back of a black SUV with tinted windows. As more removed members of the Imperial family, there was no observable security in their vicinity, which irritated Thomas earlier in the ride. “We should have been there by now,” he told his youngest sister Marcia. “I mean we’re nearly there…if they had given us an escort we’d be at the palace by now.”

Marcia gazed out the window, her chin resting on one hand and her other twirling her dirty blonde hair. She snorted a laugh at her brother’s remark. “And you’re so busy that you’ll be late to another appointment? Please, Thomas.” Marcia pulled away from the window to face him as she laughed, though Thomas wasn’t laughing. “…Father will still be at his office when we arrive, and Leona or whomever you need to see next will certainly be ready too.”

“And if she’s ‘having tea’ with Beric again?” countered Thomas. Marcia simply erupted into great laughter. “What, what’s so funny?”

“You’re so serious…‘what if she’s having tea with Beric again?’” Marcia impersonated her brother’s tone with a puffed up chest. “She’s, like what, seven or eight months pregnant already. What else is there for her to do besides sit around?”

“You don’t think that they’re…” Thomas hesitated as the car inched forward again, still at a snail's pace.

Marcia smirked with a raised eyebrow, “…I think they’re having tea or talking or whatever. It doesn’t matter, you moron. Just stop being a baby or I can tell you right now it will be a major turn off.” She glanced out the window momentarily. “Maybe we should walk, it wouldn’t be long – we’re not far at all. A few more blocks maybe.”

“I don’t like those Dakmoorans running about. They keep pouring in,” said Thomas before he jolted in his seat from the sound of Marcia opening the door and stepping out. He leaned over her now empty seat and said, “What are you doing?”

She raised her arms in jest and gave a shake of her head. “It's too beautiful a day to not enjoy a nice walk, plus you’re annoying me with all of your pitter pattering.” Marcia tugged at the sleevers of her long-sleeved white and gold, knee-length dress. “Hello,” she smiled to passersby on the sidewalk.

Thomas commanded, “You can’t walk there all by yourself.”

“Then you’d better join me unless you want to upset mother and father, and you had better stop complaining unless you want to upset me,” she smiled to other pedestrians as they walked by, not looking at Thomas as she spoke.

The Palace of Augustus was visible from where she walked in the neighboring Velia district of Castellum. Marcia looked to the palace atop the Palatine Hill, observing its white facade and neo-classical design until a young girl with short brown hair rushed towards Marcia. She finally paused at the sight of the girl, crouching down to her level as the girl pulled out a phone and snapped a selfie. Thomas finally caught up to Marcia as she stood again and waved back to the young girl who walked back towards her friends. Still waiving, Marcia spoke to her brother, “Ah good, I won’t have to tell mother that you left me to walk the streets alone.”

Thomas walked in silence, a step behind his sister for the next block. Once they crossed Via Sacra, Marcia spoke up. “Or maybe I should be kind and let you get your complaining out of the way before you see Leona?” she paused to look upon the Eridanus River beyond the palace, raising a hand to shield her eyes from the bright sun. With a chuckle she added, “It could be my kind deed for the day, don’t you think?”

“I don’t mean to complain,” sighed Thomas, his eyes focused on a different woman’s backside as she walked past the siblings. “I just don’t think people are taking this seriously. And with all of these Dakmarans and Gentries showing up lately…”

“It doens’t seem so queer to me,” Marcia shrugged. “Leo’s been rumored to be engaged to Elissa, she’s probably just here to pay her respects then leave. It's not like she likes it here anyway. And Leo’s alright I guess. Rather brooding,” she shrugged, “but I can see the appeal. He was always more interesting to see when he was around Constantine.”

The pair began to walk when the traffic light changed and crossed the street with other pedestrians. “I don’t have a problem with him, it’s the others.”

Marcia pinched her nose with a nod. “So just those roses,” she said in reference to the Dakmarans beginning to laugh as she continued, “and Emperor Fucks-a-lot? That’s fair, I wouldn’t like his pining for my lover either – though thankfully I’d never have to worry about that. He called me you know?”

Thomas stopped immediately, and grabbed Marcia’s arm, jerking her back and forcing her to stop. She began to giggle before erupting into laughter. “I’m just fucking with you, God you’re gullible.” Thomas finally let out a hint of a smile, but shook his head anyway. “Relax, big brother,” she kissed him on the cheek and walked alongside him.

The two siblings continued to the remaining distance, stopping every so often, due to Marcia’s proclivity to make conversation with whomever she deemed interesting or approach the pair. But just after passing through the main gates, Marcia stopped her brother in an unusually uncharacteristic manner. “You need my advice,” Thomas just snorted a laugh at her. To all who knew her well, Marcia largely avoided court politics or the “half-witted schemes,” as she often put it, of the great men and women, but now she looked to her brother sincerely. “I mean it, you do. So please listen to what I have to say.”

Thomas adjusted his posture, pushing his shoulders up as he crossed his arms. With a nod he said, “Alright, Marci, what is it?”

“Drop this Dakmoor shit, it’s only going to cause problems for all of us. And Beric too, just let it be,” Marcia stared her brother in the eye, “ – I don’t know him and I don’t care to know him. But Constantine is married to Beric’s sister, numbnuts. Do you really think he’s going to choose father over his wife’s brother?”

“Marcia, I’m not going to stand by and…” Thomas attempted to interrupt but Marcia simply continued.

Marcia rubbed her forehead with a labored sigh. “You’re so fucking dense…you and father both,” she groaned, promptly marching towards the palace doors and leaving her brother behind to once again catch up. The siblings walked in silence up the Palatine Hill, Thomas stopping at one point to briefly speak with a guard on the approaching drive.

“Good afternoon, Your Imperial Highnesses,” the two were greeted by a member of their father’s staff. Marcia smiled with tight lips as Thomas said “Is my father in?”

“Uh, he was with the Emperor, sir,” explained the man.

Marcia rolled her eyes and began trotting off in the opposite direction. “I’m off to find Selene – get good and drunk if I’m lucky,” and with a wave of her hand, “And no I don’t need any help, thank you very much, Flavius, I know my way around well enough…”

With Marcia disappearing down the halls of the palace, Thomas continued towards his father’s office in the eastern wing. Thomas was made to wait outside the office until the Emperor’s Senior Cubicularius, Theodotus Cosconius, exited and stood with his back facing the now closed door. He and Thomas shared a cold stare until Cosconius squinted a feigned smile and plainly said, “Your Imperial Highness,” before he disappeared out of the suite.

Thomas entered the office, finding his father seated behind a large wooden desk that was seemingly devoid of any personal effects, sans a single picture frame, and primarily stacked with papers and folders. The floor was a dark marble, clapping with every step Thomas made until he found himself a seat in a chair facing his father’s desk. Portraits adorned the blue walls of the room, with a series of chairs and sofas behind Thomas where his father would regularly sit down for meetings with staff. The room was already well lit, but an old lamp was shining a folder from which his father was reading papers.

The men sat quietly and once Thomas turned his head towards the window to gaze outside he heard a rustling of papers. “What did he want?” Thomas began.

“Who?” his father plainly stated while removing his glasses. He placed them down on the now closed folder that was marked with the emperor's seal and that of the local government of Sasora. Nicephorus leaned back comfortably behind his desk, clasping his hands together over the folder in front of him.

“Cosconius,” replied Thomas. “He didn’t look very thrilled with whatever it was that you were talking about. Was it about Beric?”

“It’s not important,” he told Thomas.

“But you spoke to Constantine before that, yes?”

“I did,” Nicephorus nodded. “The Emperor agreed that Lord Dain should not be a formal member of the Empress’s detail. The man’s no fool, he respects the Praetorian chain of command. Even if Santella went for it, and there’s little chance his replacement will accept such a placement six months from now. The Emperor is well aware of that.”

Thomas clapped, “That’s fantastic! When does he leave? Soon, I hope.”

“I didn’t say Lord Beric was being forced back to Dain,” Nicephorus corrected Thomas. “He will be moved to Velia House, which will be a more permanent residence for him during his indefinite stay in Castellum,” the Duke’s tone shifted to show irritation.

“Velia House?” Thomas snorted incredulously, “You can’t be serious. That entirely defeats the purpose of removing him. He’s going to spend even more time with Leona now, and then when…”

Thomas’s father slowly shook his head with closed eyes, opening them as he rose from the desk and to a side table that held various types of liquor and empty glasses. Nicephorus pulled a bottle of whiskey and examined it. “Have you set a new date yet? Your mother is becoming anxious and we are growing tired of these delays, Thomas.” He placed the bottle back and scratched the back of his head, “You need to get a handle on the situation now. Because things will become far more chaotic around here once the Emperor of Ghant and his little entourage arrive.”

“Leona’s being difficult and there’s not much I can do when she announces postponements without previously consulting me,” Thomas attempted to explain to his father.

All of the sudden there was a crash and the sound of breaking glass, causing Thomas to jolt in his seat towards the sound. He looked to his father and eventually came to see a broken bottle on the floor. “Then you are not trying,” his voice rose sharply, “How difficult can it be to pick a day off a calendar?”

“I’m doing the best I can…I just, I don’t know what to do,” Thomas gripped his hands tightly and looked down into his lap. “She’s been different ever since Constantine’s wedding when I found her talking or whatever she was doing with Beric. They spend far too much time together and he always looks at me with contempt, like he’s trying to…And when I try to say something to Leona about it, she just snaps,” Thomas spoke quickly, but still couldn’t look at his father. “It could be because of the pregnancy, I don’t know.” When he finally lifted his head he saw his father staring back at him. “I was trying to talk to Marcia about it, but she just complained about me complaining. She doesn’t take anything seriously.”

“Your sister is not the issue here. Do not blame this on her,” Nicephorus began to approach Thomas and leaned against the desk to face him. “Her friendship with Princess Selene is invaluable, now especially. It’s you that needs to wrap this up – marry Leona and then you will both move…Ascanium? No, Mediolanum,” the Duke repeated with a curt nod. “Beric cannot be removed, but you can remove yourself and all will be back to normal in due time. Some distance would be good for you both now.”

“Mediolanum?” Thomas said softly to himself. He said it once more then nodded. “Mediolanum is good.” he said aloud though truly spoke to himself.

“And the wedding?”

Thomas replied, “She wants to push the date back again – she told me this morning.”

“Then plan for March and get this damn thing finished. Put a child in her to make sure it’s finished if you must,” Nicephorus patted Thomas on the shoulder. He rounded the corner of his desk and sat back in his seat. “My office will see to the arrangements. I will handle the details with the Emperor myself, since neither you nor Princess Leona are mature enough to settle this yourselves.”

“That’s not…” Thomas began to speak but was quickly interrupted.

“…not what, not fair?” the Duke leaned forward in his seat, staring down Thomas. “I will begin treating you ‘fairly’ once you can prove that you’re deserving of such treatment. Because the only thing the two of you have proven is that you’re far from capable of acting like responsible adults. Princess Leona has always been difficult, you have known this since you were young – her late father granted her every whim and look where that got her. And you…” Nicephorus wiggled his nose, licking his lower lip as he paused. “Well, I think you know as well as I what will happen if you don’t manage to see this through, don’t you, boy?”

Thomas shrunk in his seat, attempting to swallow the lump in his throat. “Yes…” he nodded, “…yes, father.”

“Good,” Nicephorus lifted his glasses and resumed reading the documents in front of him. “Now see yourself out.” Thomas paused momentarily, though after that brief hesitation he did has his father ordered. Without so much as a word, Thomas rose from his seat and approached the door with some haste. As he turned the knob to exit, he stopped as he heard “Thomas,” turning his head to find his father seemingly read the same materials as when he entered. “Start packing for Mediolanum today. Make it quick.” Thomas nodded to his father one last time and exited the office.

[Lacus Magni]

“The Play”
Castellum, Latium
(Co-written with Ghant)

Victoria sat comfortably in her seat, delicately lifting a cup of black tea to her lips before placing it back on its plate without a sound. The Senior Cubicularius’s office was slightly larger than Victoria’s, though not nearly as dressed up. It was more modest and modern in decoration, though still with a Latin twist. The floor was covered in a dark red carpeting, and it’s furniture was arranged in a manner not all that dissimilar from most offices in the Palace.

Theodotus’s desk was along the far wall at the end of the room, standing before a pane of windows with the shades pulled back. Victoria glanced around the office as she took another light sip at her tea. Victoria and Jeyne were seated in neighboring chairs, separated from a stripped couch by a dark coffee table that contained a military medal in display case, this morning’s newsprint from Alba Tabellara, and a fresh pot of tea. The wall opposite the desk held a large, thin television that broadcast RALs twenty-four hour news network, though thankfully it was on mute.

Victoria then looked to Jeyne as if she was about to speak, though before she could, the office door opened, prompting Victoria to place her tea down on her plate. Not rising from her seat, Victoria slightly inclined her head at the sight of Theodotus Cosconius. He was a man of slightly above average height, and a very typical Latin look, complete with shorter brown hair, somewhat tanned skin and brown eyes. Theodotus smiled wryly at Victoria and Jeyne, appearing excited at their presence.

Always a lively figure, he exclaimed, “Victoria, Victoria, and the lovely Lady Jeyne. To what do I owe the absolute pleasure of your company today?” Standing just behind him was a petite woman wearing a sleeveless yellow dress, accentuating a curvy figure. The brown-eyed woman’s brown hair was held up in a braided ponytail, falling down over her right shoulder. Seemingly waiting for an introduction, the woman stepped forward ever so slightly. “Oh please forgive me, of course you’re both familiar with Valentia. I happened upon her along my walk back to the office. I see you’ve both been attended to, lovely.”

“Lady Victoria, Lady Jeyne,” smiled Valentia. She was Emperor Constantine’s maternal cousin of the Verrucosa family. Unlike many of her more business oriented family members Valentia Verrucosa always had an eye for politics. She was the most recent addition to her cousin’s court, resigning from her seat in the local Alban Assembly to accept an appointment to the Emperor’s Council as a Comes consistoriani, or Count in aid of Council.

“Your staff was as lively and welcoming as you, Theodotus,” Victoria nodded to him. “And I believe a congratulation is in order, Valentia.”

Jeyne Mardak clumsily stood to greet Theodotus and Valentia, though unlike Victoria she curtsied, out of habit. “Mmmuh...my lord,” she stammered to Theodotus. “Mmmuh...my lady,” she then said to Valentia. “Congratulations,” she echoed Victoria in her praise, without fully understanding what it meant.

“Thank you, to the both of you,” Valentia nodded to the pair, finding a place to sit on the sofa across from Victoria and Jeyne. “I’m very honored by the faith the Emperor places in me, and it’s rather difficult to deny an imperial request, especially when he’s family,” she finished with a chuckle.

Victoria went back to her seat and said to Theodotus, “I’m to understand you just spoke with the Emperor.”

Theodotus placed a hand on the back of Victoria’s chair and with his free hand motioned to Valentia. “Valentia was giving her oath.”

“You know very well what I mean, Theodotus,” Victoria rolled her eyes, though smiled all the same. It was at this time that Jeyne sat back down.

“Oh, yes, of course,” Theodotus playfully smacked himself on the forehead. “I spoke with the Duke of Ossonoba before seeing the Emperor. In all truth, I didn’t have time to speak with Caesar. He was in and out after the oath – very busy today with this and that,” he took a look at Victoria and then glanced at Jeyne, “I’m sure you both know how that goes.”

“It’ll be easier if you just get on with it,” Valentia advised him.

Theodotus rocked his head back and forth while mulling it over. “You see,” he passed between Victoria and Jeyne’s and around the table to the sofa. He unbuttoned his jacket as he took a seat next to Valentia, wrapping his arm around the back of the sofa. “Evidently the Master of Offices believes he does not need to consult either Caesar or myself before dropping in on Caesar to air whatever grievances befall him on any given day.”

He leaned forward to pour a cup of tea while continuing. “Today, as I understand it, there was again a discussion on ensuring that Lord Beric was not afforded any, what’s the right word for this, extraordinary? Yes that, extraordinary privileges at court.” Theodotus lifted his glass to take a drink, “There was also a discussion on relocating Lord Beric to Velia House ahead of the Ghantish imperial visit. Which I believe Caesar might have agreed to, if the Duke is to be believed, in order to keep most of those not immediate members of the Imperial Family from cluttering the Palatine.”

“Is that all?” Victoria asked plainly.

Theodotus smiled, and looked to Jeyne. “Is that all, she asks. I love it, there’s no mincing words with your mistress, Lady Jeyne.” Theodotus nodded. “It was rather tame, all things considered. No explicit mentions of trying to force Beric out, though getting him into Velia House would be the first step towards that – if it were my goal at least. So the implication was certainly there.”

Jeyne bit her bottom lip, and then deigned to speak on the matter at hand. “...The Empress wuh...wuh...won’t agree to her brother being relocated to Velia House. Suh...suh...she insists that he remain in the palace at her puh...puh...pleasure.”

“The Empress won’t stand for the Duke’s many slight’s against her brother, Jeyne is right,” Victoria said in support of Jeyne, sharing a kind nod to her once she finished.

“It’s a dangerous play from the Duke,” Valentia added.

Theodotus nodded mid dip from his cup. “Oh I very much agree with you all. It puts me in a very awkward position if the Emperor does, indeed, order me to relocate Lord Beric down the street. It's out of my hands at that point.”

Jeyne shook her head. “The...the Emperor will not issue su...such an order. The...the Empress has informed him that...she would consider th...this a great offense to her and her fa...fa...family. With the Emperor of Ghant drawing near...and his ties in this country...if the Empress were to fa...find common cause with the Emperor of Ghant...things could turn out ba...ba...badly for the Duke.”

“In truth, I’m inclined to agree with you, my Lady,” Theodotus set his cup on the table and leaned back comfortably in his seat. “This has been one wild day, ladies, let me tell you. I haven’t been running around this much since the Emperor’s wedding.”

“Why don’t I speak to the Emperor, see where his mind is at with this,” offered Valentia.

Theodotus nodded, letting out a deep breath. “If you don’t mind, that would be great. I have a meeting with Duke Pinarius in,” he checked his watch, “about twenty mintues, so I can’t do it myself.” As he sat up straight once more he added, “Why don’t we put a pin in this conversation until later today when we’re working off of a bit more than assumptions and hearsay. Mums the word until then.”

“Until then,” Victoria said, standing almost in unison with Theodotus.

Jeyne stood up too, and then said to Theodotus, “...you...you may want to inform Duke Pinarius th...that Prince Balendin of Dakmoor is coming to see...Gregoria.”

“That I shall, Lady Jeyne,” Theodotus looked Jeyne in the eyes with a warm smile. “Thank you for the information.”

“I’ll see you out,” Valentia added. Victoria was first out of the office, Valentia trailing in the rear while Theodotus raised the volume on his television. Once in the hallway, Valentia asked Victoria and Jeyne, “Where are you off to next?”

Victoria sighed faintly, and rested her hands on her hips. She glanced at Jeyne before replying, “I suppose Jeyne and I will just see to a few minor tasks before I retire. I thought Theodotus would have more by now, he’s usually hard to keep from talking.”

Jeyne, having followed Victoria out of the office and now standing behind her in the hallway, added that “...your cousins Jo...Joseph and George are coming to court with th...the heir of Garima, Lady Valentia.”

Valentia laughed at that. “An entertaining pair, those two.” She looked to Jeyne curiously, “Are you very familiar with them, Lady Jeyne?”

“No...na...not really,” stammed Jeyne in response. “I just know they’re coming...suh...suh...sooner than the Ghantish.”

“All of these people, coming to visit. We must truly be the nexus of the universe after all,” Valentia laughed to herself. “Thank God for the extra space at Velia…but I’ll leave you ladies to it, I know you’re busy.”

“Of course,” nodded Victoria with a pleasant smile. “Thanks for all your help today.” Valentia nodded affirmatively and proudly walked away.

“What do you say we go see to the Empress’s schedule for tomorrow, Jeyne,” Victoria slowly began walking in the opposite direction as Valentia, hoping that Jeyne would follow. “There are a few details I want to go over with you, so you can fill in for me if I’m away. Then we’ll make sure the supper preparations for the Emperor and all of that. It’s rather mundane, I know,” Victoria giggled faintly.

Jeyne nodded, “of ca...ca...course, my lady,” she said with a smile. “Pwease lead on.”

While Victoria and Jeyne continued off together towards the residence and the Empress’s chambers, elsewhere in the palace, Valentia was now waiting to welcome a Gariman party of guests. After the Silingians passed through security, Valentia approached the group with a warm smile.

The Gariman party consisted of six people, consisting of the twins Joseph and George of Silingia, sons of Duke John of Silingia who was from a lesser branch of the Hohenhaupt family that presently ruled Garima. Both of them were well-groomed, sporty young men with styled hair and trim clothes, Joseph’s hair being a darker color like their mother, while George having more of a dirty blonde mop. They were joined by their younger sister Florence, who like her older brothers looked like she walked out of a fashion magazine. She wore a flowing black dress that contrasted with her fair skin, blonde hair and blue eyes.

The other three Garimans were a study in contrasts. Michael, the Prince of Silingia by virtue of being the eldest son of the king, had a rather plain face, with round puffy blue eyes and short dark blonde hair. He sported a beat-up sports jacket and old khaki pants, perhaps not because he was lazy or disinterested in appearing fashionable, but because he erred on the side of comfort and familiarity.

His older sister Tatjana emulated her younger brother’s sense of style, albeit for different reasons. She wore a modest grey dress, had dull blue-green eyes and a lighter shade of blonde hair than her brother, and her overall demeanor was one of duty and honor, not so much showing off as her cousins seemed to portray. The last among them was their first cousin, Princess Izara of Viendra, who’s mother was the sister of the king. She very much unresembled the rest, as she was thin and spindly, with pale skin, black hair and dark eyes. If anything, she looked Sydalene more than anything else, but much fairer. Yet she pulled it off to great effect without even really seeming to try, and for the occasion she sported a yellow and burgundy sundress, most likely in homage to the country she was in.

Joseph, George and Florence embraced their cousin Valentia, while Tatjana and Izara curtsied to her with all the formality that would be expected of a princess. Michael blushed as he offered to take Valentia’s hand and kiss it upon the back, with a meek “my lady, my pleasure.”

Though less informal in welcoming her cousins, Valentia curtsied to the other Garimans. She smiled at Michael’s welcome, “An honor, Your Highness.” Stepping back, Valentia clasped her hands in front of her, “Where do they have you put up for your stay? Velia House, I assume…” her eyes shifted to her cousins when she said “…or as Aunt Zoe offered up her townhouse again? Either way, hopefully you’re not far.”

“We were able to finagle the townhouse,” boasted Joseph proudly. “Knowing what sort of rabble will be in Velia House before too long.”

George laughed and added that “all we had to do was ask her if she really wanted her niece to stay in the same place as the Emperor of Ghant.”

“Yeah, no thanks,” said Florence. “I think mother would’ve had a stroke, and Aunt Zoe never would’ve heard the end of it.”

“I think Aunt Zoe would go as far as to buy you a home to keep you from sleeping under the same roof as that man,” joked Valentia. “Do you all have any plans for tonight? Constantine is rather busy today, so I don’t know if you intended on seeing him yet.”

“We’ve come to see cousin Selene,” Florence answered. “You know where she’s at?”

“Last I heard she was near the gardens with Princess Marcia,” replied Valentia. “I couldn’t tell you why she’d want to be outside today, but she’s always done as she wants, hasn’t she?”

Princess Tatjana answered the question with, “easy to always do what you want when nobody ever stands in your way.”

“...So can you take us to her or what?” Joseph asked playfully. “Because if we have to wander around here, we’ll probably get in all sorts of trouble, and we’d have to tell Selene it was your fault,” he laughed.

Valentia shook her head with a laugh. “Come along now,” she waved to the Garimans to follow her down the halls.

The Garimans followed Valentia down the hall, the girls ahead and the boys in the back. While they were walking, George discreetly elbowed Michael in the ribs and asked him “what do you think about Valentia?” Not loud enough to be easily overheard.

“She’s pretty,” Michael answered. “Smart too, from what I’ve been able to gather.”

“Well if you’re interested in her, I think we could swing it,” George told Michael with a grin.

Michael blushed and looked down at his feet. “Oh, I don’t know…”

That’s when Joseph walked up to the other side of Michael and added “you see Mike, that’s your problem. You can’t be a pussy.”

“I’m not a pussy, Joe,” Michael huffed. “I just respect women.”

“Yeah, ok,” sniggered Joseph. “Trust me man, these Latin girls, they like scoundrels.”

Out in the gardens, Princess Selene was lounging comfortably in one of the garden’s benches, her hair moving in the wind. Though the weather was brisk compared to most days, the sunlight more than warmed the gardens enough for where Selene was without a blazer. She shuffled in her seat somewhat, twirling her yellow hair before brushing out any ruffles in her Latin purple-colored dress, which featured small, gold stars embroidered throughout. She shielded her eyes from the sun while looking at her cousin Teresa, who sat along the ridge of the fountain joined by her long time friend Marcia of Ossonoba.

Marcia sat nearest to Teresa, a full glass of red wine resting in her hand. Unlike Selene and Marcia, the latter in a white and gold dress, Teresa donned a purple sweater and olive colored pants. Teresa wisped her hand softly over the water in the fountain while Marcia loudly hymned a tune for the girls to guess. It didn’t take long for Teresa to guess the classical dancing number, declaring that the composer was “Arvina.”

“You’re no fun, Teresa,” Marcia promptly ceased playing the song and took a hefty gulp of wine. “How you manage to always guess is a mystery.”

Selene laughed, “You always play the same songs, Marcia.”

“Shhh,” Marcia brought a finger to her lips as she walked towards the girls. “I’m trying to build her confidence, Selene, don’t ruin it for her.”

The girls laughed together, with Selene softly brought a hand to her forehead. “I’m glad you could make it for the weekend, Teresa. It’s almost like when we were both at Haenna together…” Selene smiled, then gave Marcia a sideways glance, “except for Marcia over here who was too busy riding horses to come visit us.”

“Hey now, a girl’s got to make a living,” Marcia tried her hardest to say with a straight face but quickly erupted into laughter. “We don’t all have a man paying our way like you girls…” she paused “…or I guess it’s the reverse in your case, isn’t it, Selene?”

Selene’s smile gave way to an unamused look that quickly fell away once Valentia arrived with the Garimans. “I hope we’re not interrupting anything important,” she declared.

Marcia laughed, “You know where we are right?”

Joseph wasted little time in making an entrance. “Oh, this must be heaven, because an angel stands before me,” he said with a smile to Marcia.

“Marcia of Ossonoba,” George said with a little more reserved tact, “the Empire is made brighter by your presence.”

Marcia shook her head with a smirk. “No, I think that’s just the sun, Georgie.” She quickly emptied her glass before saying, “I’ll tell you what, I don’t know who in their right mind is making the decision to let you boys in here, but I’m glad they’ve yet to come to their senses. Which of you would like the honor to fill my glass?”

“Oh, the best is yet to come, if I have anything to say about it,” Joseph winked.

George beat him to the punch on the glass, and said “my brother talks too much, and while he’s busy talking, I’m busy doing.” There was a twinkle in his eye while he filled Marcia’s glass.

Meanwhile, Selene slowly rose from her seat with open arms and said, “Welcome, cousins. I hope you managed to avoid trouble on the short walk over.”

Florence embraced Selene, and answered, “trouble follows my brothers like a shadow, but I’m no worse for the ware, cousin.” She offered to kiss Selene on both cheeks.

Meanwhile, Tatjana and Izara curtsied, with Florence introducing them both. “Selene, you may recall Princess Tatjana of Silingia and Princess Izara of Viendra...and of course, Prince Michael…” Michael of course was distracted by Teresa and awkwardly tried to avoid getting caught glancing at her. When he heard his name, Michael jumped, and said “oh, of course, Princess Selene, a pleasure as always,” before offering to kiss the back of her hand clumsily.

“Of course, I’d be remiss if I’d forgotten,” Selene smiled to the rest of the Garimans. She smiled politely at Michael after his welcome, not drawing any attention to his clumsiness. “Thank you, Prince Michael, such a kind gentleman whose example my cousins could no doubt learn a thing or two from,” she looked towards her cousins with a teasing smile. “Please, everyone, help yourself to some wine. I’m not partaking,” she then joked, “and Marcia can’t drink it all herself.”

Marcia perked up, “That sounds like a challenge if I’ve ever heard one.”

Unlike Marcia who remained seated throughout these exchanges, Teresa promptly stood and curtsied to the Garmians. “It’s nice to see you again, Prince Michael. And all of you as well, that goes without saying.”

The Garimans introduced themselves to all three ladies in turn, though Joseph and George were notedly more proper when addressing Teresa. “How’s your brother?” asked Izara with a toothy smile. “Last I heard he was stationed aboard the IMS Fortuna in the Isles.”

“Thank you, he’s well,” Teresa said of her brother. “I think he misses home, but you didn’t hear that from me,” she teased. “He’ll be back around the holiday, I’m really looking forward to seeing him again.”

Prince Michael offered to kiss the back of Teresa’s hand, and said “your Highness...I’ve been thinking about you...I mean, about what you’ve been doing, since we last spoke,” he said bashfully. “What with school and the Prince Imperial of Lyncanestria…” It was all Tatjana could do to not facepalm, though fortunately Izara was indifferent towards Michael’s awkwardness, and Florence was distracted by Selene, while the twins were distracted by Marcia.

“Well, I’m glad I left an impression,” Teresa blushed. “I’m nearly done with one of those, and totally done with the other. In that order,” she chuckled lightly. “I actually finished school in June. But how have you been, both of you I mean?” she attempted to include Tatjana so as to not appear rude.

“Oh, well congratulations on the former, and I’m sorry for the latter,” Michael answered honestly. “Done with school now, thankfully.”

“Same,” Tatjana answered. “Looking forward to the next step. Our cousin Izara is still in school.”

Izara inclined her head. “I am, but I’m enjoying it. It’s a nice change of pace from being cooped up at home.”

“Thank you, Michael, that’s awfully kind of you,” Teresa smiled wide before turning to Izara. “Oh, where do you attend? I’m not all that familiar with Gariman schools, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, just the state school,” answered Izara. “University of Viendra. Nothing fancy, plus I wanted to stay local for my charity work.”

“Nah, it was definitely for the beaches,” Tatjana laughed. “Viendra has lovely beaches.”

“I can certainly think of few reasons better than that to choose a university,” Teresa joined in laughter, but not before taking a passing look at Michael. “I’ve heard wonderful things about the beaches in that part of Garima from my cousins Martin and Margaret. Very beautiful country.”

“Perhaps you should visit there sometime,” Michael replied with a reserved expression. “I’m sure your cousins would be happy to show you around. They’re pleasant enough people.”

“Perhaps I shall,” said Teresa politely before sprouting a bright smile. “Though it’s difficult to visit Garima and not want to visit the royal court too.”

It was at that moment Tatjana poked her brother in the ribs sternly, thereupon which Michael gulped, and extended his arm to Teresa. “Your Highness, I was hoping you might be interested in showing me around the gardens...would you care to join me?”

“Oh,” Teresa paused in a moment of surprise, however she nodded while taking Michael’s arm without missing a beat. “I’d be happy to,” smiled Teresa, before saying, “that’s if your sister and cousin don’t mind.”

“Oh not at all,” Tatjana said as she started shooing them with her hand. “Please, by all means, go.”

Izara tried to conceal a sheepish grin and added “oh don’t mind me...I’m just enjoying the weather.” Izara and Tatjana exchanged a sidelong glance before shifting their eyes to Teresa and smiling.

Once Teresa and Michael were out of earshot, she asked, “I can show you the gardens nearest to the riverfront first or we can observe what’s happening closer to the palace.” She stretched out her arm and pointed out the general area just below them towards the river and then behind them. From where they stood, the lower gardens were noticeably empty in comparison to those closer to the palace, due in part to the more brisk weather of the afternoon. She then looked to him with a warm smile, “Guest’s choice.”

“The riverfront sounds lovely,” chose Michael while he walked. “I’m sure I’ll see plenty of the gardens close to the palace during my stay here, so I’ll gladly take the opportunity to see something a little more...interesting.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” smiled Teresa as she began to lead Michael down a narrow path that led to a series of small steps towards the river. The wind picked up as they stepped down, wisping Teresa’s brown hair into a frenzy. However, the wind subsided once they reached the lower path, as it was blocked by the taller bushes surrounding them. Teresa attempted to brush her hair back into place, laughing, “I didn’t expect it to be so windy.” She led Michael to a small fountain flanked by benches on all sides, except that side which faced the water. “Well I’m not sure what all there is to say about this part, but the view is quite lovely, isn’t it?”

Michael stood in place and looked out over the water. “It is rather lovely. Reminds me of home. In Silingia there’s a garden pavilion much like this one, at the Hohenburg Palace. It’s very old...the walls are covered in ivy and the stones are all cracked. Yet the view remains beautiful, no matter how much of its surroundings deteriorate. I wonder how many people have stood here before us and saw this view. I wonder who they were, and what they were like.”

Teresa simply gazed at Michael as he mused and peered over the river. “It’s quite the thought,” she smiled at him, brushing her hair behind her ear. “I don’t expect they were much different from…us.”

“Princess and Princesses,” Michael nodded his head. “Did you ever show William this view?”

“No,” Teresa said plainly before a brief pause where she looked out to the water. With a deep breath she continued, “We didn’t do things like this all that often. It was always like we were each in one place or another, and when we were together it was…different.”

“My impression is that he wasn’t invested in you,” the Prince observed thoughtfully as he turned his gaze to her, though it was broken by shifting his eyes to the ground and the shrubbery. “I’m sure that was difficult for you. I can relate. A man in my position, heir of a kingdom...feels very much alone. My grandfather dealt with this through military discipline, and my father, as I’m sure you’re aware, dealt with this by partying. Suppression or indulgence are often our only options.”

“And how do you deal with it?”

Michael looked out over the river and took a deep breath. “I simply stay true to myself and my core values. I don’t seek validation from my peers, I don’t take unnecessary risks and I don’t project.” The Prince shifted his feet uncomfortably, and after looking at them, he looked back at Teresa. “Truth be told, I don’t really care about William, though our grandmothers are sisters. All I care to know is that he’s thus far wasted the opportunities that he's had. Otherwise, he’d have been here before, enjoying the view that I now enjoy.”

“You don’t have to worry about William, nor do you have to compare yourself to him,” Teresa slid her hand down to meet his and leaned closer to Michael as she looked back at him. “You’re a great man the way you are, and I like you that way.”

“...I suppose I’ll have to show you just how not worried about William I am.” His tone firm, Michael took Teresa’s hand in his, and then after a brief moment of eye contact, closed his eyes and leaned in to kiss Teresa.

Teresa closed her eyes as Michael’s lips met hers. She gripped his hand tightly, before she pulled herself back from his lips with a wide grinning smile upon her face. Her cheeks were red now, but she looked into his eyes confidently, “I’ve been waiting for that,” she glanced at her feet before meeting his eyes again. “And it didn’t disappoint.”

After she pulled away, Michael grinned sheepishly and replied, “I know,” before closing his eyes again and going back in for another kiss...hopefully the first of many.

[Lacus Magni]

“Playdate”
Velia, Castellum

The glare of sunlight bounced off the windows of tall buildings surrounding Empress Galara Park on the sunny, but brisk fall day. One of the larger, Imperial sponsored parks in Castellum, this park was named for Empress Galara, wife of Emperor Theophylactus I Augustus, and a former land originally reserved for Imperial hunts in Castellum. The open space occupied the high ground, south of the Eridanus River in the Velia district. Walkways, ponds, and even smaller playgrounds were featured throughout the park.

As the wind picked up, Princess Maria tugged tightly at her tan overcoat, holding her son Jason in her lap. She watched as her daughter Stephania played in the park, running around a small playground with other young children her age. Seated next to Princess Maria was her cousin, Gabriella Pinaria, who was also watching two of her children, Michael and Lucilla, play in the park with Stephanie. Unsurprisingly to anyone that knew him, Matthew Mardak, Gabriella’s husband, traveled to Latium, but was elsewhere with Crown Prince Martin at this very moment.

Princess Maria had traveled to Latium with Martin, their five children, and Leo. Under normal circumstances, Maria and family would have stayed at Velia House, but given the large number of visitors present there, she instead opted for the Palace of Augustus. Martin stayed with Marcel and the twins Isabella and Valencia, while Maria took Stephania and Jason out to play in the park.

Joining Princess Maria and Gabriella was Maria’s younger sister, Princess Leona. Leona was Maria’s younger half-sister, and the first of their father’s children from his second wife Zoe Verrucosa. While Princess Maria and Gabriella conversed, Leona sat in silence watching over her own daughter, Zenobia.

Zenobia was four years old now, and Leona’s only child from her ill-fated marriage to Basil I of Aretias. Leona was dressed casually in black athletic wear, while Zenobia wore a black overcoat that allowed the ends of her red dress to just show at the bottom of the coat. Zenobia’s long, dark hair flew in the wind as she ran into the most recent gust, closing blue eyes ever so briefly.

Gabriella took a sip of her coffee when Leona noticed Zenobia stop, and pick up a flower. Zenobia extended her arm out and seemingly offered it to someone. “What’s her imaginary friend’s name?” Gabriella asked after taking a sip.

“Aurian,” responded Leona as she stared out to Zenobia, who momentarily looked over to the women and waved. “Zena says that he has golden hair like me.” Leona chuckled, adding, “Her words.”

“I think Michael's’ was named Crescens, of all things,” Gabriella laughed. “I can’t even begin to guess where he heard that one, from one of my brothers perhaps. Leona barely took her eyes off Zenobia, watching her every move, and smiling with the young girl’s every smile.

Zenobia rushed to Leona, nearly stumbling from her excitement along the way. “This is for...for you, mama.”

“It’s beautiful, Zena,” Leona took the flower, which appeared to be more of a weed than anything, with a proud smile. Zenobia mirrored her mother’s look and quickly took back to playing with Gabriella’s children until she stopped suddenly and looked off in the distance. Leona glanced over to her left and noticed a young couple with a son that appeared near Zenobia’s age nearing the playground.

“Has Zenobia learned any Vardanan or Mysian yet?” asked Princess Maria.

“A few phrases here and there,” nodded Leona. “My mother and grandparents are helping me find her a tutor soon.”

The young couple held hands, speaking amongst themselves, while their son looked down at his feet while he walked. Leona looked towards the couple with an awkward look, and even a raised eyebrow, though within she couldn’t help but feel somewhat jealous of them. All the while, an un-uniformed Praetoran began to approach the young couple.

At this, Princess Maria shook her head with a sigh, then shouted to the Praetorian, “It’s fine.” She extended an arm with a weak wave, “the park is for everyone,” upon which the Praetorian simply shuffled into the background. Maria smiled at the young family, and while their son didn’t appear to take much notice of what just happened, the father bowed to Maria from a distance, while the mother curtsied, though it was an awkward attempt.

Princess Maria heard her cousin laugh at the woman’s curtsy, finding Gabriella attempting to hide her mocking smile. “She curtsies like Gregoria after a few drinks,” Princess Maria finally said.

“Or like you,” Leona said to Gabby, laughing as she spoke.

Princess Maria rolled her eyes and went on to change the subject. “Has Zena been asking about her father lately?”

Leona gave a labored sigh, raising a hand to shield her eyes from the sun as she looked forward towards the children. “More and more everyday.”

Gabriella took a deep breath, and waited a moment before responding. Her mouth opened at first, unsure how to respond. Eventually saying, “What did you tell her?”

“Obviously I told her that he’s a wife-beating, womanizing letcher,” said Leona with heavy sarcasm, though felt a chill run down her spine. “Thomas doesn’t want to get his shit together either, so whatever, he’s a moron.”

“Does that mean he’s still going on about Beric?” Princess Maria asked.

Leona nodded, slowly turning her engagement ring back and forth, and even up and down on occasion. “He made some big scene the other day, and asked me to stop seeing Beric,” she stated matter of factly. “Frankly, I was just shocked that he had the balls to do that. I always assumed he was too coward,” she chuckled. “He’s is apparently ‘meeting’ his father today, so get ready for a goddamn mess tonight.”

The women continued to watch their children at the park for some time longer. Zenobia appeared to ask the young couple’s boy if he wanted to join and the children’s group grew. It wasn’t until later when the temperature dropped that the women decided it was time to head home.

Stephania tugged on her mother’s coat and asked, “Mama, can I go with Zenobia, please?” Only five and a half, the girl already had a discernible personality. She was pretty, delicate and courteous, and displayed an unusual degree of courage, strong will and high intelligence for a child her age. Like her father, she had black hair, blue eyes, and fair features. Those that knew Maria’s mother, the late Stephania Pinaria, after whom Princess Stephania was named, said that she took after her a great deal, including being soft-spoken.

“Well, I don’t see why not. So long as Aunt Leona agrees,” Princess Maria nodded to her daughter.

Zenobia pounced on her own mother and said, “Please, mama.”

Leona rubbed her forehead slowly, before giving way to a nod. “Sure, that’s fine.”

Once Leona, Zenobia and Stephania reached the car, Leona asked the driver to take the long way back to Velia House. The entire car ride, Zenobia told Leona about the fun she had at the park, including the young couple’s son that she just met, while Stephania looked out the window and examined what she saw. Eventually they arrived back at Velia House, and entered through one of the main entrances in lieu of simply taking the entrance that led right to her apartment.

Mother, daughter and friend walked the corridors of Velia House, Zenobia smiling to those she passed by on the walk from the entrance to the apartment, with Stephania beside her. Zenobia and Stephania held hands, skipping playfully through the halls before they reached the apartment. It was more modest than most other apartments in the palace, but to Zenobia, it was the only home she’d ever known. Stephania had stayed at Velia House before as well, though she was too young to remember most of her stays.

The main room was adorned in art, whether it be paintings, tapestries, photographs or marble busts of prominent ancestors or relatives. It was well lit, due in part to the flow of natural light into the room from windows that provided a view to Velia, and the Palatine beyond. Voices and ruffling could be heard from elsewhere in the apartment, though Zenobia released Leona’s hand and rushed into her nearby playroom with Stephania.

Leona slowly followed Zenobia, stopping to lean against the doorway and simply watch the girls play together. It was then that she heard her fiance, Thomas’s, voice deeper into the apartment. She followed the sounds down the hall, past a waiting room featuring blue walls and faint purple furniture, and soon found Thomas in the master bedroom, seated at the end of the bed and watching television. Behind him, moving throughout the room, were two attendants gathering clothing and other items.

“Working as hard as ever, I see,” Leona raised an eyebrow, her tone heavy in sarcasm and lacking enthusiasm. “Are you off somewhere?”

Thomas lept off the bed at the sound of Leona’s voice. “It was a very stressful day, if you must know. Full of activity. Not all of us are so lucky as you, darling,” he said with a grin, approaching her to kiss her softly on the cheek. “How was that little lunch thing of yours?” asked Thomas, waving the attendants out of the bedroom.

“It wasn’t some little thing, I was having lunch with grandparents,” Leona replied, walking further into the room. She quickly peered into her closet and noticed a few items missing. “Where are my things?”

Quickly, Thomas said, “Oh? So you were having a” Thomas looked at his watch, “six hour lunch with your grandparents? That must have been on meal”

“Your incredulity desperately needs work, Thomas,” Leona threw her head back with a laugh. “Nor do I have to explain myself to you. Now…where are my things, and why are they missing?”

Thomas turned to face Leona, slowly running his hands up and down her arms. He put an arm around Leona and said, “With everything that’s been going on lately, you know with us, all of that business with Beric that I said the other day. And with all of these people coming to visit or whatever it is they’re planning…”

“Get to the point,” Leona batted Thomas’s arm away.

Thomas licked his lips with a nod. “I wanted it to be a surprise, but I planned a little vacation to Mediolanum. Just the two of us before all of the crazies show up.” Leona stared back at Thomas with a slack-jawed gaze. “What, you don’t like it?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Leona laughed riotously, “I’m not going to Mediolanum.” She walked out of the room and shouted to any staff in range of her voice, “Bring my things back or find a new job.”

Leona neared Zenobia’s door when she felt a forceful grip on her arm, pulling her back and face to face with Thomas. His eyes were angry, bearing down on Leona. Her heart began to race, her eyes went wide and gave a feeling of panic. “You’re hurting me,” she spoke softly. She weakly jerked her arm away from him but to no avail, “Thomas.”

Little, speeding footsteps drew closer. Leona knew it was Zenobia, as she often liked to rush out of a room; and it was, with Stephania beside her. The little girls looked at Leona and Thomas, at first seemingly unaware of the tense situation, but the smiles they wore quickly disappeared when they looked at Leona’s face. “What’s wrong, mama?” Zenobia asked

Princess Stephania had a certain edge to her gaze, not unlike her Claudii ancestors. A sharp, piercing gaze which, despite being blue, seemed to burn red hot. Even at her age, she knew what was going on. “Let her go. At once.”

Leona’s eyes shifted between Thomas and the girls. Between the innocent words from Zenobia and Stephania’s sharp tongue, it was as if Thomas had a moment of realization. He let go of Leona’s arm and slowly stepped back. In the moment of freedom, Leona grabbed Zenobia’s hand and stood between Thomas and the bedroom. “Nothing at all, girls. Thomas here was just telling me that he had to leave for a few days and wanted to say goodbye first.” Leona narrowed her focus on Thomas, “Isn’t that right?”

Thomas began to speak, but not a single word followed. Leona backed away towards Zenobia’s bedroom, leaving space for Thomas to walk away. He nodded, and took a step closer to Leona, as if to kiss her cheek, but she backed away once again and stood behind her mother. “...That’s right. I’ll see you in a few days.” He attempted to smile at Zenobia, telling her, “Be good for your mother.”

Nodding, Zenobia waved to him with a wide smile and said, “Bye bye.” And only moments later, Thomas disappeared down the hall and left behind the closing door. Stephania didn’t take her eyes off of Thomas the whole time, and watched him leave. She didn’t turn to Leona and Zenobia until she saw the door shut down the hall.

Once it did, Stephania turned to Leona, and while her gaze had eased, her face was still stern. “He’s a bad man.”

Leona grinned when she said, “That’s exactly what your mother told me.” She crouched down to eye level with the girls and asked, “Now who wants some dessert, ice cream maybe?”

“Yes, please.” Answered Stephania with a smile. Zenobia smiled in kind, and Leona led the girls to the kitchen for the ice cream as promised.

[Lacus Magni]

“The Proper Way”
Castellum, Latium
(Co-written with Ghant)

After days of preparation, setting the decorations, and planning the event down to who was going to stand where and when, the Palace of Augustus was ready to welcome the Emperor of Ghant and his growing entourage of fellow visitors. While not an official state visit, the Latin Imperial Court set the scene as it would the visit of any foreign head of state.

The throne room was located in its own wing of the Palace of Augustus, only accessible through two entrances – an exterior entrance from the Palace’s central courtyard and an interior entrance from the Imperial apartments. The structure was multi-storied, designed similarly to early Christian churches in Castellum, however this very building sat atop the original throne room that was destroyed in the Social War.

Upon entering the room, one would find a row of windows looking out to Castellum beyond. A crimson carpet covered the floor at the entrance and led straight towards the windows until it hooked to the side of the room, revealing the imperial throne. The crimson carpet was lined with lit candles and imperial banners, though the carpet grew wider as it neared the throne itself.

The throne sat at the far end of the expansive room, facing the east and the rising morning sun, harkening back to the long forgotten pre-Christian Latin cults to Sol Invictus. Atop a dais sat that Emperor’s throne and that of the Empress. Both were decorated similarly, their skeletons were gold, and the seat itself colored purple and ornately decorated in a gold pattern. Similarly the back of the chairs were a deep, Latin purple and the Emperor’s was designed in such a way that the golden Claudii eagle was prominently featured on the throne, surrounded by a golden framework of laurel and oak designs encircled by the inscription G CLAUD NERO ANC IAS F CONST FEL LAUR IMP AVG CAES. While the Emperor’s was larger and more prominent a focus of the two, the Empress’s throne was equally decorated and featured the dual design of the Claudii eagle and the Dain star and sword, signifying Empress Alazne’s house of birth.

Prominent courtiers and officers gradually began to filter into the throne room some time before the Ghantish arrival was set to occur. First came the lower ranking courtiers, gradually followed by the higher ranking and as the arrival neared, all nine members of the Sacred Assembly – the highest ranking officials, stood near the dais and the throne, but off to the sides crimson carpet However, closest to the throne were members of the Imperial family, such as the Empress Mother Zoe, Princesses Maria, Leona, and Selene, and many of Constantine’s siblings. Below the dais stood the Praetorian Exploratores in dark purple dress uniforms.

Lastly, the Emperor and the Empress entered the throne room from a door nearest to the throne. Constantine was dressed in a formal Latin military uniform, a golden laurel crown atop his head. His uniform was unique in that it was white, with gold and purple trim, and his house’s ancestral sword, Incantatus, or Sorgindutako as it is called in the native Ghantish, sheathed at his side. Atop his uniform, and fastened over his right shoulder with a gold broach, was his imperial purple paludamentum, which reached down to near knee length in the back, covering his jacket’s collar and upper portions of his chest.

The Emperor aided Alazne up the dais first, holding her hand until she found herself seated upon her throne at his side. She was wearing a formal violet court dress while her dark hair was tied in a long braid behind her, and in light of both she was careful in her seating. She looked around pensively at her ladies-in-waiting and the other highborn guests that had already arrived.

Princesses Elissa of Dakmoor and Jana of Jehenna were with the ladies-in-waiting, while the Dowager Empress Marsella and the Garimans were off in their own area talking amongst themselves as they eagerly awaited the arrival of the Ghantish Imperial entourage. They stopped talking and looked onward when they heard that unmistakable sound of the butt of a scepter hitting solid ground. It was faint at first, but grew steadily louder as the footsteps drew closer.

Praetorians stood at attention beside the main double doors that opened out into the courtyard. When the footsteps outside came to a stop, an older courtier dressed in a decorative, gold chlamys approached the door. The Praetorians guarding the door opened each door as the courtier announced, “Your Imperial Majesty, The Emperor of Ghant and his companions.”

The Imperial Black Guards were the first of the entourage to enter, the famed all-black clad personal knights of the Emperor, marching into the room in two columns. They came to a stop in the center of the room, and then parted ways for the Imperial Herald. He stepped forward, with the Herald Staff tapping against the floor. Perhaps the thing more ridiculous than the staff itself was the Herald’s ornate court uniform of black, gold and white, complete with a long, flowing cape and gloves. He came to a stop, and butt his staff against the floor twice.

“Greetings!” The herald said in a muffled voice. “We have come to stand before His Imperial Majesty the Latin Emperor,” he stated, as part of the archaic ritual of introduction.

Constantine nodded his head and the old courtier told the Ghantish herald, “You may approach.”

The Herald took seven steps forward, and then butt his staff against the floor. From the tunnel of Black Guards walked a tall, burly young man with scraggly black hair and a sunswept tan. He was dressed in a brown tunic and leathers, and upon his jacket the star and mountain of House Atmos was emblazoned. “May I present, Lord Aaron Atmos, son of Lord Hector Atmos and Lady Hanna Mutu.”

Aaron walked up to the Emperor and Empress with dignity and purpose, his eyes lowered, before bowing deeply. “Your Imperial Majesties,” he said in a gruff Latin accent.

Despite knowing Aaron for many years now, Constantine greeted him formally from the throne. “Welcome to Latium, Lord Aaron. I offer you my protection throughout your stay.”

“Thank you, Caesar,” Aaron replied, before bowing again and walking over to greet his aunt, the Dowager Empress Marsella.

The herald next announced a pair of tall, thin redheads who walked arm-in-arm, dressed in white garb. “May I present Lord Raymond Zuria and his sister Lady Zelda Zuria, son and daughter of Lord Raymond Zuria and Lady Lucilla Lorazaina.”

Raymond bowed before the Emperor and Empress, while Zelda curtsied deeply. “Your Imperial Majesties,” they both said to Constantine and Alazne, the latter of which considered Lady Zelda a friend, and smiled merrily.

Recent history between the Claudii and Zurias were not lost on anyone in the hall, however Constantine welcomed them as he would anyone. “Lord Zuria, Lady Zelda,” the Emperor paused, noticing his wife’s smile. “You have my protection for the duration of your stay.”

The Zurias showed themselves off after another bow and a curtsey, and then the next visitors were announced as they walked the tunnel. These two were dressed in proper blue and silver outfits that matched, one for a boy and one for a girl. “May I present Lord John Mutu and his sister Lady Jane Mutu, son and daughter of Lord Mathias Mutu and Princess Natel of Vardana.” The Mutu twins both had smooth, light brown skin, blue eyes and dark hair, and they presented themselves to the Emperor and Empress in a very formal manner with a deep bow and a low curtsey.

“Your Imperial Majesties, it is a great honor,” said John Mutu with his eyes lowered.

“A great honor indeed, Caesar,” Lady Jane added.

“I welcome you, Lord Mutu and Lady Jane,” Constantine addressed the twins. “You have my protection throughout your stay.”

The twins said in unison “thank you, Your Imperial Majesty,” before bowing and curtseying, and then they were off in the direction of their cousin, Martin and Princess Marai. When they left, the next to present themselves were a pair of golden-dressed, golden haired siblings with sparkling eyes and teeth. “May I present Lord Louis Lianu and Lady Lucy Lianu, son and daughter of Lord Samuel Lianu and Lady Rhea Tarpeia.”

Unlike the others that had come before them, Louis Lianu bowed but not too deep, while Lucy curtsied, but not too low. There was a certain arrogance, and gravitas to the Lianus that caught the attention of various characters throughout the room, for they were quite easy on the eyes, and their clothes clearly of a more lavish variety, between the golden coats and gowns and red capes. “Your Imperial Majesties,” Louis said with a certain fluidity in his voice. “A pleasure to be among family.”

As second cousins, and great-grandchildren of Emperor Constantine XIX, Constantine welcomed the Lianus with slightly less formality, “Welcome cousins.” It was a rare honor spoken at court, but Constantine continued on with the formality he had become accustomed to at audiences and introductions such as these. “You have my protection so long as you are in Latium.”

“Thank you, Your Imperial Majesties,” Louis and Lucy said with a bow and a curtsey, before showing themselves off. Perhaps the Lianus pride was wounded by who was introduced after them. The following pair was dressed nearly as richly, in a uniform and gown of green and gold, a house of ancient name and great past glory.

“May I present Lord Edgar Galan and Lady Willow Galan, son and daughter of Lord Paul Galan and Princess Rosalina of Ghant, and Lord Edgar’s wife, Lady Violant Claudia de Aultavilla,” the herald announced the pair. Steffon was a tall, handsome young man with broad shoulders, blue eyes and dark brown hair, and his younger sister was not too far off from that, though her hair was mostly brown.

Having spent much of their history ebbing between being close allies and mortal enemies of the Latins, but always finding it amusing, the Galans smiled, and bowed and curtsied properly. “Your Imperial Majesty, I thank you for receiving us,” Steffon said with raised eyes, for it was always said that a proper Gael never lowered his eyes before a Latin. Likewise, Violant curtsied faintly to her brother and added a smile, “Thank you, brother.”

Willow imitated her brother, albeit more bashfully. “Tis a great honor, Caesar.”

“Welcome home, sister,” began Constantine. “And, indeed, Lord Galan and Lady Willow, you are welcome in Latium. And you have my protection throughout your visit.”

“Thank you, your Majesty,” Steffon said in response with a bow, while his sister curtsied. They then exited and joined members of the Ghantish party.

And finally, Imperial Ghantish banners emerged from the tunnel. “May I present Prince Lucas of Ghant and his sister, Princess Luciana of Ghant, son and daughter of Prince Stephen of Ghant and Princess Ulrike of Rahdenburg.”

Prince Lucas of Ghant swaggered into the room in a very dubiously proper imperial court uniform, though he made up for it with his pearly white smile and neatly trimmed hair. His sister was a little more formal but a little less radiant, with short, bunned brown hair and beady brown eyes. “Your Imperial Majesty,” Prince Lucas said to the Emperor with the most half-assed bow of the evening. Luciana was far more dignified in her curtsey.

Constantine glanced at Alazne during Lucas’s approach. Turning back towards the Ghantish prince and princess he said, “Your Highnesses, welcome, and know that you enjoy my protection during your time in Latium.”

“Thanks...Caesar,” Lucas said with a bow, while Luciana curtsied, before the two of them went off. Before the main event began. From the tunnel emerged two fully armored men, one wearing a helm in the guise of a snake, with two pairs of fangs protruding from each jaw, the surcoat covering his chest black and green. This was Artur Ordosa, the Serpent Knight. His counterpart wore a duck head helm, and wore corresponding garp colored white and grey. Rolli Ahateremu, the Knight of Ducks, by all accounts a jovial man, but tough as nails and loyal to the bone.

The herald announced the pair that walked just behind them. “May I present His Imperial Majesty, Nathan, the Fourth of His Name, Emperor of Ghant, High King of the Ghantar, King of Low Ghant, Lord of Ghish and Protector of the Realm, and his sister, Princess Alexia of Ghant.” The Emperor of Ghant was clean-shaven and had his reddish-brown hair cut short and groomed, and his fair, sparsely freckled skin was unusually radiant, though his blue-grey eyes were still sad and dreamy. He dressed in rich black and white robes over a tunic, the back of the robes dragging on the floor behind him as he walked. Upon his head he wore a silver diadem encroached with a multitude of colored gemstones, with several colors adorning it.

On his arm was the beautiful, albeit woebegone Princess Alexia. She wore a formal dark blue gown that matched her eyes, while her long black hair flowed behind her pale back peppered with dark freckles. Not one to ever steal a show, various people in the room began to remark upon her beauty, and of how much she and Empress Alazne looked alike. “The resemblance is uncanny,” Princess Tatjana remarked quietly to her cousin Izara, to which the latter shrugged.

Arriving before the Latin Emperor and Empress, Nathan bowed in the manner most appropriate for a man of his station, which was about half as deeply as anyone else would. “Your Imperial Majesty,” the Ghantish Emperor said with a deep incline of his head. “You look well,” and to the Empress he said “Your Imperial Majesty...radiant as always.” Alazne smiled and inclined her head.

“Your Imperial Majesties,” Alexia said to both Constantine and Alazne with a deep curtsey, “A pleasure to see you both.”

“Welcome, Your Imperial Majesty,” Constantine addressed Nathan first, with little hint of a smile. “I trust your journey went smoothly.” He then turned to Alexia, growing a smile as he said, “And Your Highness, it is good to see you again.” Though Constantine addressed Nathan, he looked over the hall at the courtiers and visitors. “I’m to understand that you, and your companions, will be enjoying a stay of some length.”

The Emperor of Ghant glanced around the room before answering. “I suppose that’s possible, your Imperial Majesty. I’m in need of a vacation, and what better place to take one then Latium? Besides, I’m sure it will go as smoothly as my journey,” he said with a sheepish grin.

Constantine smiled politely, though briefly narrowed his eyes. “I see. I will grant you use of an apartment at Velia House for the week. You’re familiar with it by now.” The Latin Emperor paused momentarily before adding, “Should you wish to extend your vacation beyond that, we can discuss it then. And as an honored guest, I invite you and your companions to dinner tonight.”

Nodding his head, Nathan replied “Thank you, your Imperial Majesty, you are as generous as you are kind. Your hospitality is greatly appreciated, and we will happily join you.”

“I look forward to tonight, cousin,” Constantine nodded to Nathan. The Latin Emperor made a swift motion of his hand, and Theodotus Cosconius instinctively meandered through the crowd to stand at the edge of the crimson carpet and bowed to Constantine. “My Cubicularius will escort you to Velia House and see to the arrangements for the other members of your party.” Following another brief exchange, Theodotus accompanied Nathan and his entourage out of the hall to leave Constantine to attend to a few minor ceremonial matters. Alazne on the other hand excused herself in order to prepare for the evening’s festivities.

Later that night, all were again gathered at the Palace of Augustus – this time in the state dining room. The main dining hall was a large room with two large chandeliers hanging above a white marble floor. The walls were adorned in paintings and other artwork, most notably a painting of Emperor Peter of Adrianople at the Battle of Adrianople, a battle most famous for the death of his brother Prince Theodosius at the hands of a combined Ghantish and Sasoran force during the Claudii retreat to Adrianople during the Crisis of the 11th Century.

Two tables were in the room. The main table stood prominently in front of a row of windows, with another table extending down each end of the main table resulting in a “U-shape” design. Dinner had already been served, though all were welcome to remain and continue dining or simply converse.

Emperor Constantine and Empress Alazne sat at the center of this table, in a chair matching Alazne’s, both seats unique to all others in the room. Nathan was seated to Constantine’s left at the head table, while Alexia was seated to the right of Alazne.

On the far side of each Nathan and Alexia sat other members of both imperial houses mixed throughout. Empress Mother Zoe was seated between Alexia and Beric Dain, the latter of whom was seated next to Selene and her husband, the Vannoisian prince Audric – though for the moment their seats were empty as they spoke to Elissa. Further down that end of the table were Prince Lucas of Ghant, with his sister Luciana, the Emperor’s uncle John and his wife Diana of Dakmoor, along with their older two children Lucius and Titania, and finally Constantine’s illegitimate sister Violant and her husband Edgar Galan.

At the opposite end, Princess Leona sat next to Nathan at his request. And beyond Leona was an empty seat marked for the tardy Leo between herself and Elissa of Dakmoor and Jana of Jehnna, and next to Jana was Princess Maria and Martin of Dakmoor. Others seated at this end of the table were Dowager Empress Marsella, with her daughter Polyxena at her side, and as the main table turned into the next table, the Emperor’s uncle Theodosius and his wife Nina of Gelonia and their eldest child Teresa. Prince Thomas of Ossonoba was seated just beyond the flanking table, next to his sister Marcia and the Garimans – noticeably distant from his fiance Princess Leona.

Featured throughout either side table were other guests such as Duke Spurius Julius and his wife Princess Alysanne of Ghant, the Lianus, the Mutu twins, Steffon and Willow Galan, the Zurias, Aaron Atmos, Prince Baldwin of Aretias, Laurentius Verrucosus and Valentia Verrucosa, and Alexius Pinarius and his wife Eusebia Atmos. And of course, various courtiers including Victoria Claudia, a handful of Alazne’s ladies-in-waiting, Victoria’s father Florian Claudius, Nicephorus, Duke of Ossonoba and his wife Marthe of Rahdenburg-Falkenhayn, and other close members of court.

Princess Luciana asked her uncle, Duke Nicephorus, “Uncle, I was hoping to learn more about the Latin government’s interest in organic recycling projects.” Luciana was known to be an engineer that did work for her father’s organic recycling project in conjunction with the Ghantish Ministry of Environmental Affairs, which was rather sophisticated and on the forefront of environmentalism, some would say.

Nicephorus was drinking a glass of red wine when his niece began. “The Praetor for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs and his deputies, have been discussing a number of recycling projects. I’m afraid I don’t know if any are organic without looking,” the Duke of Ossonoba set down his glass. “I would be more than happy to put you in touch with his office, or a meeting while you’re in Castellum to show off one of your projects.”

Nodding, Luciana smiled and said “yes, uncle, I’d like that, thank you.”

Perceptively, Alazne squinted and then asked Luciana “please, your Highness, tell us more about your current research into organic recycling projects.” Prince Lucas groaned, while Louis Lianu attempted to bury his face in his hands.

“Much of my most recent research concerns government-ran vermicomposting programs and conducting feasibility studies,” Luciana answered. “Vermicomposting improves the physical structure of soil, enriches soil with microorganisms and microbial activity in worm castings is ten to twenty times higher than in the soil and organic matter that the worm ingests. It also improves water holding capacity, enhances germination, plant growth, and crop yield, improves root growth and structure and reduces the amount of waste going to landfills. I recently participated in a 282 page research paper entitled ‘Building a Sustainable Business, a Guide to Developing a Business Plan for Farms and Rural Businesses’ developed by the Ghantish Institute for Sustainable Agriculture and published by the Sustainable Agriculture Research and Education Project, You can see the benefits of government-ran vermicomposting programs in there.”

After Alazne spoke and as Luciana explained the project, some guests resumed their own conversations or moved about the room, such as Prince Robert of Aretias approaching Leona. However, Constantine responded to Luciana by politely adding that, “We’ll have to see how we can get involved in that, won’t we?” He looked down towards Nicephorus, “See to the details, Nicephorus.”

“As you wish, Caesar,” the Duke of Ossonoba responded.

“Hey Marcia,” Lucas called out his cousin, “you know what worm castings are, right?”

Marcia was caught off guard at her cousin’s question. At first she laughed loudly. “Duh, of course I do. I mean, who doesn’t. They’re that thing that I like to let Luciana talk about because her voice is much more elegant than mine.”

“Worm shit,” answered Joseph of Silingia. “No point in beating around the bush.”

“Yeah, that. Your favorite, Joey,” Marcia laughed, as did many others.

Amidst the laughter, suddenly one of the hall’s doors opened revealing the arrival of Prince Leo of Ghant and Latium. Though dressed appropriately, he appeared more relaxed both in his choice of clothing and look. “Nice of you to finally join us,” Constantine said jokingly over the laughter and other conversation.

Leo looked towards Elissa with a faint smile as he rounded the table, though first embraced Constantine, and then patted Nathan on the shoulder. “I was just hoping to miss your dinner speech, and it looks like I succeeded,” laughed Leo. He looked to Alazne and dipped his head slightly, “Your Majesty.”

Elissa exchanged a faint smile and responded, “you also missed Princess Luciana’s lecture on environmental recycling programs.”

“And how was it?” Leo walked to Elissa. He brushed his hair back quickly, then leaned over to kiss Elissa on the cheek as he took his seat next to her.

“Well, it turned into a discussion on worm shit,” added Marcia, who then playfully teased Luciana with a smile.

“Speaking of worm shit,” Princess Alysanne said between sips of wine, “cousin Thomas, how are you?” The Ghantish Princess turned Latin Duchess was a lean and slender woman with shoulder-length brown hair and bright blue eyes with a penchant for acerbic conversation.

Thomas sighed heavily, though still cracked a smile at Alysanne. “Great as can be,” he followed with a heavy drink from his glass, eyeing the center of the main table. “I’m surrounded by family, some friends, and I’m engaged to the most beautiful woman in the world.”

At that, there were various awkward glances and coughs coming from around the room. Martin didn’t hesitate in coughing into his hand before glancing at his wife. “He’s referring to you, in another life,” he said softly to her.

Leona snorted, briefly breaking the awkward silence in the room. She leaned towards Martin as she stifled her laughter, “That sounds like an utter nightmare.” With a short glance to Leona, and said quietly, “She really knows how to pick ‘em.”

Duke Spurius Julius chuckled at Thomas’s remark. Spurius was a man of average height, with a long face, blue eyes and blonde hair, courtesy of his Ravenna mother. He appeared the most relaxed man in the room, resting his arm around the back of Alysanne’s seat. “You know if you want her to hear it, you might want to say it a little louder next time,” Spurius said while laughing.

After Thomas’s remark, several women in the room all looked up from their plates and wine glasses and stared at Thomas with varying degrees of scorn, while the Emperor of Ghant looked down at his plate and frowned. It would take a bold woman to answer Thomas’s claim, though perhaps the least bold one was the one that ultimately did.

“For now,” Princess Leandra of Ghant and Keld said before throwing back her glass of wine. A mix of Lianu and Gentry, the princess was as beautiful as she was wanton, with long blonde hair and coffee colored eyes.

Leandra’s husband Laurentius was drinking when she spoke, causing him to spit back into his glass. However, the glass provided good cover for his grin. Others in the room looked to Leona, who until now was distracted in conversation with Nathan. Leona’s head perked up when she heard the words, and laughed hysterically once she realized who said it.

Leona stood slowly, scowled at Thomas with narrowed eyes. She appeared to shake her head and mouthed some words to herself. Looking past Nathan, she spoke to Constantine and said, “Sweet brother, I’m afraid I’ve lost my appetite.” The Latin Emperor nodded and Leona promptly headed towards the door.

Thomas was focused on Leandra after her comments, prompting Laurentius to speak of Leona’s exit with a smirk to Thomas, “I don’t think it wise that you follow my dear cousin.”

Leandra was the sort of woman who would pour gasoline on an already lit flame, and added, “I agree. You’ve done enough already.”

Thomas jolted to his feet, drawing the attention of those who weren’t already focused on the commotion. Without hesitation, he started after Leona, causing Leo and then Martin to jump from their seats, even though the former was speaking to Elissa. Audric and Edgar quickly followed suit, seated closest to where Thomas was now approaching. As Thomas neared Edgar, Constantine spoke from his seat, bringing a silence to the hall. “I haven’t excused you, Thomas.”

Thomas stopped before reaching the end of the table and finally looked up to see everyone in the hall staring at him. “Caesar,” the Duke of Ossonoba stood and walked behind his son, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I believe my son has gotten a little carried away due to the flowing food, drink and great company. He would do well to be excused and have an early night and offer his apologies.”

“Forgive me, Caesar,” Thomas said unenthusiastically.

“Very well,” conceded Constantine in a harsh tone. “See to it that he gets home in one piece, Nicephorus. I don’t want to see him on the news later tonight.” Nicephorus bowed deeply, while Thomas followed in suit though was less enthusiastic throughout. Moments later, the only Ossonoba remaining was Marcia and she shook her head while pouring wine to the rim of her glass. Others resumed their conversations once the commotion subsided.

Tatjana looked around, and then she leaned in close to Marcia, and began to speak in a hushed tone. "Your family has more enemies than friends in this room. I would tread carefully if I were you. Just some friendly advice."

“Thanks,” Marcia attempted to say as politely as possible in an equally hushed voice, holding back any usual barbs. “I’ll just have to make some friends, won’t I? Drink with me, will you” Marcia clinked her glass against Tatjana’s with a smile.

Smiling, Tatjana countered, "if you think you can keep up, I'd be honored to oblige."

Izara chimed in and said "me too, but not too much...I'm a lightweight."

Marcia smiled at Izara. “Well you can’t be more of a lightweight than Joey or Georgie. I swear I’ve seen those two out after an hour. And Florence at Selene’s hen night…well, she can tell you about that.”

Glancing across the table at Joseph and George of Silingia, Tatjana remarked, “Florence already did. She said she didn’t like it. I convinced her not to tell her parents because no doubt, the Veruccosa family would have blamed someone for it that wasn’t actually responsible.”

“And here I thought I was a great party planner,” frowned Marcia, though she quickly shifted to a playful grin. “At least she’s not a snitch, right?”

“No, she’s not a snitch,” answered Tatjana, “but she’s a proper and sheltered girl who has a limited threshold.” Looking across the room, Tatjana pointed with her fork at Alexia. “Like her, over there. Princess Alexia...she takes the cake. Girls like that, you can’t just throw them into the fire, because they’ll jump out.”

“Innocent as they may be,” Marcia emptied her glass and began to refill it, her eyes shifting towards the front table. “They’ll have to jump back in sooner or later.”

“Which is for them to decide,” Izara pointed out between sips of wine. “Not you.”

Tatjana pursed her lips and added, “forgive my cousin, Marcia...she’s like Florence and Alexia you see...a woman of outstanding moral fiber. We women of Rahdenburg extraction, well...we’re no strangers to satisfaction, are we?”

“No stranger at all,” smiled Marcia, waving over the Silingia twins as she took one more sip of wine.

[Ghant]

“Emboldened”
Castellum, Latium
(Co-written with Lacus Magni)

Once the night began to calm following the lively, if not chaotic, dinner with the Ghantish visitors, the Empress Mother made her way to the Imperial apartments. At forty-three years old, Zoe Verrucosa was a grandmother. She still maintained the beauty of her youth, and her golden hair still flowed down her shoulders. Zoe walked alone to see her son, walking past the guards posted outside of the apartment and entering without so much as a look in their direction.

Zoe found the apartments to be calm, and seemingly quiet in comparison to the rest of the palace, and what she could only imagine the Ghantish guests were doing at Velia House just down the street. The Empress Mother was reminded of the brief time when these rooms were her chief residence and the thought sent a chill down her spine. At that, she pushed further into the apartments and to her son’s private office, where he could often be found. However, in spite of that, Zoe called out, “Kostas,” once she walked down a hallway in the direction of the office.

Unbeknownst to Zoe, the apartment was not empty, and Alazne was nearby in the newly renovated nursery with her newborn daughter Diana. The nursery, as with many rooms in the apartment, was adorned in golden walls, though it lacked the extravagance and decoration compared to other rooms. Its walls were bare of most decoration, other than a handful of photographs of family and a round, decorative mirror. Diana’s cradle was the focal point of the room, placed somewhat in the center of the room near a large window. At either end of the cradle were two chairs next to one another and the other amenities needed for Diana’s care.

The nursery’s door was slightly ajar, though just enough for Zoe to catch sight of Alazne seated in the room. The Empress Mother knocked faintly on the door at first, fearful of waking Diana if she was sleeping. “Knock knock,” Zoe vocalized almost as faintly as the knock itself. She slowly walked into the room without hesitation and said, “I hope you don’t mind the intrusion. I was just looking for Kostas.”

Alazne was seated in the chair beside Diana’s crib, with the infant sucking at her exposed breast. Alazne had changed into a purple shift after the feast and let her hair go as it pleased, falling down around her like a blanket of thick black hair. “Please, Domina, come in.”

Zoe smiled brightly at the sight of baby Diana, finding her way to the remaining open seat in the nursery across from Alazne. She sat comfortably, crossing her legs at the ankle. Her dress was in direct contrast to Alazne, still wearing the same formal dress from dinner. “How is she? Quiet, finally, I see.”

“Hungry,” Alazne observed with a smile. “As usual.”

“I can see that, quite eager too,” nodded Zoe before gazing at Alazne thoughtfully. “Motherhood seems to suit you. You’re getting enough sleep, I hope?”

“One way or another,” Alazne chuckled. “Same with this one.”

“Good,” Zoe smiled to Alazne. “I remember what it was like when Constantine was born. You never quite forget those moments…like this one. With your first born especially.” Zoe eased back into her seat, becoming more comfortable in her position. “But he was by far the loudest and biggest handful of my children. That’s hard to believe, I’m sure.”

“Well, he certainly likes doing things his way,” laughed Alazne. “This one’s the same way. I can tell that when she’s older, she will be willful. I suppose I couldn’t expect anything less from a Claudii.”

“And he always has…” the Empress Mother’s voice was more strained, trailing off with each passing word. “He’s always been a good boy too, with a true heart. He always tried to do right, and I don’t even know where he learned it, not from me. And despite everything he’s had to endure. I pray your daughter will be the same, with her two loving parents.”

Alazne nodded. “With all that is within my power, I shall try to make it so.” Looking around the room, Alazne then asked Zoe, “My father did too. He said he knew your family. That they are good people. You’ve honored your house, and Constantine has benefitted richly from it.”

“They are, indeed,” smiled Zoe. She leaned closer towards Alazne to add, “Just don’t let my brothers hear your praises. We’ll never hear the end of it, that I promise you. I’m sure your’s aren’t all that different either,” she laughed momentarily. “Though I hear your brother Beric is being treated rather harshly by some.”

Sighing heavily, Alazne responded by explaining that “I fear that power has gone to the Ossonobas’ heads, that they would harass my family over Thomas’s petty grudges over perceived slights that do not exist. If his father thinks I will be intimidated by his threats, he is gravely mistaken.”

“Oh, they have no power, Alazne. Not even a sliver of what they perceive,” Zoe said with a smirk. “There is always someone overreaching, you’ll realize that quicly. When they do, all my son has to do is say the word, and like that,” she snapped her fingers, “they are gone as quick as they appeared in the first place.”

“Is that so, mother?” said Constantine, only now arriving at the apartment and standing at the door. He appeared tired, still wearing his uniform from earlier in the day. However, he was without his jacket and his undershirt was unbuttoned around the collar.

“It most certainly is,” Zoe retorted. “I see no reason why it shouldn’t be.”

Constantine entered the room while his mother spoke. He firstly walked towards Alazne and Diana, leaning down to kiss Alanze on the cheek, then crouching down to do the same to Diana’s head. “Perhaps, mother,” he said to Zoe as he turned his attention to Alazne and Diana. “How is she tonight?”

“Hungry,” Alazne answered with a reserved smile. “But otherwise nothing is wrong. Diana is feeding before I put her to sleep, and I’ve been speaking with your mother, as you can see.”

His gaze remained on Diana, “Of course, that’s good.” As Constantine began again, he remained focused on his daughter, though glanced at his mother briefly “I would have expected you would have retired to the townhouse for the night, mother.”

"I was tending to your poor sister. I'm afraid she isn't having the best time tonight, as you can expect," replied Zoe. "That Thomas is...well we'll have to do something about him, I'm sure Alazne would agree. And, I only wanted to say my goodbyes for the night, especially to the little one."

“The company has been much appreciated,” Alazne agreed.

Zoe smiled at them while rising from her seat. “Likewise, dear. But, afterall, it is getting late, and it has been quite a busy day.” She took a breath and told her son, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Kostas. Alazne. Enjoy your night.”

“You too, mother,” Constantine smiled to her, “goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” added Alazne to her mother-in-law, with a gentle smile before turning her attention back to Diana. Just as Alazne predicted, the infant grew tired after she was fed, and had begun to fall asleep. Alazne adjusted her shift in order to cover herself again, while continuing to hold the baby in order to make sure she was asleep before getting up from the seat.

Constantine stepped back as Alazne took care of Diana. He then took the seat just left empty by his mother, watching on as Diana fell asleep in Alazne’s arms. “You quiet her far better than I do,” Constantine smiled at his wife. “She likes you.”

“I’d hope so, I’m the one that had to push her out,” sniggered Alazne gently. “Though I can already tell, she’ll take more after you than she will after me. She’s too noisy to be like me.”

“Are you calling me noisy?” Constantine said with a teasing smile. “Surely you’re thinking of someone else.”

Alazne gave Constantine a sideways stare. “My grandfather Danel told me that the Claudii have a historical reputation for being noisy, and then as proof he pointed at my grandmother,” she grinned.

“Well, I can’t dispute that,” laughed Constantine, leaning back in his seat. “How did you get on today, did you get a chance to see Alexia or Zelda before dinner?”

The Empress shook her head. “No, not really. They arrived, presented themselves, and went to their rooms to get ready for dinner. I’ll be spending some time with Alexia, Zelda, Willow, Lucy and Jane on the morrow.” Alazne stood up from her chair and walked over to the crib, and laid the now sleeping infant down. Then she turned to Constantine, and though her expression was still gentle, her eyes began to harden. “Speaking of which, I’m eating breakfast with my brother tomorrow, and I’d like to know what I need to tell him.”

“About Velia House?” Constantine asked rhetorically, taking a deep breath. “You don’t need to tell him anything, I’m not going to uproot him because the Ossonobae can’t keep their house in line.” The Emperor rose, looking Alazne in the eye as he approached her. “Beric is family, it’s as simple as that.”

Alazne smiled brightly and said. “I am overjoyed to hear it,” before embracing Constantine. “I have been so worried about him being sent away from the palace.”

“It was never an option. I know how much it means to you,” Constantine wrapped his arms around Alazne, bringing her in tightly. “But the Ossonoba problem will linger. I fear tonight was only a small taste of what’s to come, it could easily get out of hand.”

“...I feel that it will, because the Ossonobae are determined to harass my family,” Alazne lamented in a sad voice. “And for what reason? I can only think it is due to contempt for me.”

“I don’t care what their reasons are, this has gone on long enough. Any insult they levy against you, or your family, will be dealt with swiftly. You have my word,” stated Constantine forcefully.

With great zeal, Alazne kissed her husband passionately. “I knew I could count on you to defend the honor of my family. Your loyalty and commitment to justice are but a few reasons why I knew marrying you was the correct decision. You will do what is right, no matter the political price.”

Constantine was initially surprised, but quickly equaled his wife’s instant show of passion. “I’m glad you think so,” he caressed her arms with a smile after she spoke. “We should take this elsewhere, let Diana rest in peace.”

Smiling again, Alazne said with bright eyes, “by all means, lead the way.”

Constantine smiled before kissing Alazne once more. He took his wife by the hand, and led her out of the nursery into the hallway. It wasn’t long before they reached their chambers. Constantine kissed Alazne with vigor, sliding her purple shift off as they fell into the bed together for the remainder of the night.

---

Elsewhere in the palace, Princess Maria retrieved her twin daughters Isabella and Valencia, as well as her son Jason from the care of her own younger sister Olivia. While on any typical visit home Maria and her family would stay at nearby Velia House, this visit they took up residence in an apartment at the Palace of Augustus to avoid the clutter and chaos of the many Ghantish visitors now calling Velia House home for the duration of their visit.

Now, with her son in her arms and the twins walking at her side, Maria moved through the halls, some of which guests and staff were filtering between. She smiled to most, but stopped to speak with a few. She was so eager to pick up Jason that she was still wearing her imperial purple, floor length dress from dinner. It was as she neared the hallway of her apartment that she saw her husband with three young children as well.

The twins Isabella and Valencia were three years old, but even then they were hellraisers. The only thing that differentiated the twins were their dresses, with Isabella wearing black and Valencia wearing purple. Of course, even at the young age of three they tried to fool people by trading their clothes, so their fingernails were painted different colors...Isabella black, and Valencia purple. Their cooperation with their mother was ensured by a combination of threats and promises, though when they saw their father, the two of them darted off away from their mother and towards their father like a miniature stampede.

Martin was with his two oldest children, Marcel and Stephania, and with Princess Zenobia. Marcel, aged seven, behaved as though a boy twice his age. He wore a black court outfit resembling his father’s, and like him, was growing to be tall and thin with a handsome face, blue eyes and a head of bushy black hair. Indeed there was a maturity and wisdom in his eyes that not even his grandfather Malibar possessed, and a demeanor about him that carried the air of a king, in spite of his age.

The twins practically lunged at their father, who scooped them up in his arms, and as a result of them climbing and him shifting them, they came to sit on each of his shoulders, and together they stared down defiantly at their siblings, their mother and Zena below, as though they were giants, beyond reproach. “I’m surprised you made it,” Martin told his wife with a grin. “You got here without having to put a harness on these two.”

“You don’t give me enough credit,” Maria shook her head with a faint smirk, readjusting Jason in her arms. “And be careful with them up there,” she threw him a look and inclined her head at the twins. “Godforbid they fall and get hurt.” Maria took a look around at Marcel, Stephania and then Zenobia, whom she lingered on for a moment. “Is her mother late?” she asked Martin in a hushed voice.

Martin shrugged. “When isn’t she?” before turning to go into the room. The twins turned their heads to glare at their mother while Marcel, Stephania and Zena followed Martin inside.

“Have you seen your mother yet, Zena?” asked Maria, shuffling into the apartment after her husband and all of the children.

Zena followed Stephania in, and slowed when Maria spoke. “I saw mama at dinner, Aunt Maria.”

“I see,” smiled Maria before turning to the other children. “And how was your supper, children?”

Marcel had a small stack of books on the table, and he went to sit down and began thumbing through them to find something to read. “It wasn’t disagreeable, mother” Marcel said in a reserved tone as he sat down. “Uncle Philip was decent company.”

“It was nice, mama,” Stephania added as she went to show Zena to their room.

Martin sat down on a couch, and the twins climbed down and sat on each side of him. They had become tired, and leaned into the father like he was a giant pillow, and their eyes began to glaze over. Martin put a hand over each of them and began patting them on their backs. “I don’t suppose you had an easy time making conversation with the older children?” Martin asked his son.

At that, Marcel shook his head. “No father...they were quite basic.”

“That’s too bad, sweetheart,” frowned Maria. She sat down in a nearby chair, near the couch where Martin was seated and continued. “If you’d like, perhaps you can join Uncle Constantine and I for lunch tomorrow. That could be fun, hmm?”

Marcel smiled at the proposition. “I’d like that very much, mother.” The young Prince of Dakmoor found his book containing a collection of epic poems and plays, and opened it at the bookmark, which was on the epic play Stephanus II.

“Good, I’ll let him know,” nodded Maria proudly. “Just don’t stay up all night reading your books. You’ll be as tired as your sisters.” At that Maria turned to Martin and the tired twins resting at his sides. “It might be bedtime for those two.”

It appeared as though the girls were already asleep, and Martin grinned and told his wife that “If I move they might wake up, and if they wake up, who knows when they’ll go back to sleep.”

“Alright, well, please don’t do that,” Maria snorted a faint laugh and shook her head. “I hope you’re comfortable on the couch all night.”

“...I have an idea,” began Martin. “I’ll take one and you take the other one, and together we can take them into the other room and lay them down.”

Marcel, buried in his book, countered “that won’t work...as soon as you pick them up they’ll wake up.”

“Do you have a better idea?” Martin asked his son.

Looking up, Marcel pursed his lips and then answered “yes, sleep on the couch.”

Maria tried to conceal any laughter but grinned playfully at Martin. “Marcel is right, and you even said it yourself, dear. If you move, they’ll wake up.” She leaned back in her chair, looking down to Jason in her arms with a smile. “It is very noble of you to volunteer like this.”

As fate would have it, baby Jason began to stir in his mother’s arms, and he let out a cry. It was so piercing that both of the twins woke up, and they began to pout.

“Make it stop make it stop!” Isabella and Valencia both yelled before running off into the other room, where Stephania and Zenobia were playing.

“Shit,” Maria closed her eyes in defeat. “Go deal with them,” she ordered Martin, rising from her seat while holding Jason tightly to her chest. Maria began to sing a Latin song to him in a hushed voice as she entered her own bedroom.

In the other room, Stephania and Zenobia had been playing with Stephania’s dolls and her dollhouse, when the twins entered the room in unison. They stood behind Stephania and stared at Zenobia in silence. “They’re behind me aren’t they?” Stephania asked Zenobia, the former sitting completely still.

Zenobia froze and stared back at the twins. “Yes.”

At that the twins circled around Stephania and sat down to form a circle with their sister and Zenobia, and each grabbed a doll. It was that moment that Martin walked into the room and said “ah, there you are. Time for bed, you two.”

The twins made pouty faces and replied “but dada, we want to play with Stepha,” Valencia whined.

“Please, dada?” asked Isabella with big, puppy dog eyes.

Stephania looked at Zenobia, and then at the twins, and then at her father before looking back at Zenobia. “...but they don’t have pajamas on.” Aptly, Stephania gestured at Zenobia, who like Stephania was already in pajamas, while the twins were still dressed in evening clothes.

“Ah, good point,” Martin nodded before reaching down to pick up Isabella. “Time to get dressed for bed, girls.”

As was usually the case, Martin could get one, but not both, for as soon as he picked up Isabella, Valencia was already running away yelling “no, my dress is so pretty, no!”

Isabella was struggling to get away from her father, who had to throw the toddler over her shoulder. Martin then asked Stephania and Zenobia to “catch Valencia please.”

“How?” asked Zenobia innocently with a shrug.

“Like this,” Stephania said as she ran after her younger sister. Seeing as Stephania was bigger, faster and stronger, she ran up behind Valencia and hugged her tightly, causing both her and Valencia to fall down on the floor.

Zenobia laughed and asked, “Do you need help?”

“I think I got it,” answered Stephania as she wrestled with Valencia on the floor. Having already subdued Isabella, Martin walked over and picked up Valencia too. “Thank you, Steph,” Martin said to his daughter as he carried both of the twins into another room and shut the door behind him.

“Uncle Michael says that they’re like little pigs,” Stephania told Zenobia as she sat back down in her spot. “You just have to hug them and bring them down if you want to catch them.”

“All sisters or just your sisters?” asked Zenobia as she picked up a doll dropped by one of the twins.

“Mine,” Stephania answered. “They’re funny.”

After a couple of minutes, Martin emerged with the twins, both of whom were dressed in pajamas. Apparently they were tired again, and Martin took them to their bed and laid them down, before going back to Stephania and Zenobia. “Don’t stay up too late, okay girls?” Martin asked.

“Yes daddy,” Stephania answered, before giving him a hug. “Love you.”

“I love you too, Steph,” replied Martin with a hug, before patting Zenobia on the head. “Goodnight Zena.”

Zena looked up with a smile. “Good night.”

With that, Martin left the room and closed the door, and was back in the common room where Marcel was still reading. “Remember what your mother said, go to bed at a decent hour because you’ll have stuff going on.”

“Yes, father,” Marcel said without looking up. “Goodnight.” Martin walked up to his son and gave him a pat on the head before going into the other room, where Maria was with baby Jason. Martin walked into the room and shut the door behind him, and noticed that the infant had fallen asleep in his crib.

Maria was seated across from the crib, her vision focused on it and not the muted television in the distance as she brushed her hair. Martin’s entrance pulled Maria’s attention. “Are Isabella and Valencia asleep?”

“Presumably,” Martin answered. “Steph and Zena are playing in the next room over, and Marcel hasn’t moved with his book.” The Crown Prince of Dakmoor spoke as he walked over to Maria and started stroking her hair. “The night would appear to be ours.”

“Did you see the way Isabella and Valencia looked at me?” Maria began somberly. “They gave me the stink eye when they were on your shoulders…after I told you to be careful.”

Martin pursed his lips, and then replied, “that’s just them being funny. I bet if you went to kiss them goodnight, they’d give you hugs and kisses. The girls love you...they just like to give you a hard time. Hell, they do that with me too. They’re toddlers with too much energy.” Martin was helping get the knots out of Maria’s hair, he always liked to say, though it wasn’t hard to see that as an excuse to just play with her hair.

“I suppose you’re right,” shrugged Maria. She looked to him with a playful smile. “But maybe you need to do a better job of getting them to tire out before bedtime.”

"...I think I do a pretty good job of that with you," Martin laughed before wrapping his arms around Maria from behind.

“Smooth,” Maria laughed along. “How long were you sitting on that line?”

"About as long as you'll be sitting on my line," Martin teased, but despite his effort to stay cool, he started laughing too.

Maria shook her head and tried to stifle her laughter. “You’re such a loser. I should really make you sleep on the couch out there after that one.”

"But you won't, because you'll get that itch that only I can scratch," laughed the Crown Prince before he kissed the back of Maria's neck. "And besides, I'm sure you'll want to tell me all about whatever's been going around court."

“Court is a mess,” Maria took in a deep breath, and her speech became more faint the more she spoke. “People are starting to feel emboldened…”

"Maybe you should start to feel emboldened," Martin said in between kisses against the back of Maria's neck and shoulders. "The Emperor’s sister shouldn't suffer the indignities of lesser princelings." Martin, for his part, was beginning to feel emboldened in the use of his hands.

Maria turned to face Martin and took his face into her hands. She kissed him passionately and then ordered him to “Get in the bed.”

"Ladies first," Martin teased just before he tried picking her up and walking in that direction, kissing his wife all the way there before tossing her on the bed. Martin fell down on the bed after her, and in those early throes of passion, he wondered why they called them marital duties. Nothing about his relationship with his wife ever felt like duty. God willing, that's the way it would always be.